Sound and Fury
by Mirage Shinkiro
Summary: G1. After his latest fight with Megatron, Starscream finds himself facing his true reasons for hating the tyrant. What is his hate driven by, and can there ever be anything other than hate between them? The answer shocks them both. Mature. MTxSS.
1. Fury

_Title: Sound and Fury_  
_Author:_ Mirage Shinkiro

_Rating:_ M  
_Warnings:_ Violence, language, adult themes.

_Genre:_ Angst and hurt/comfort with eventual mech/mech, a.k.a. intimacy between androgynous but male-"pronoun'd" 'bots. The Transformers are canonically sexless despite having a social gender, but if mech/mech bothers you, don't read.

_Description:_ Transformers is the property of Hasbro, and although I wish I could make money off the TF franchise so I could be independently wealthy, I am not. Alas, I remain poor and am just borrowing the lovely robots.

_Summary:_ G1. After his latest fight with Megatron, Starscream finds himself facing his true reasons for hating the tyrant. The answer takes both Starscream and Megatron off guard.

_Inspiration:_ Megara-Liancourt's sci-fi epic fanfic "Hunted Species" challenged me to make time to write some fanfic and explore the complex and problem-ridden dynamic between Megatron and Starscream.

_A/N:_ Set shortly after "Enter the Nightbird" in G1 season two. The story is meant to disrupt the future as mapped out in season 3 and the animated movie, and it switches back and forth between the present and the ancient past.

_Edit-units of time (source, TFwiki):_ nanoklik=1 second; klik=1.2minutes; breem=8.3 minutes; joor=roughly an hour; orn=a day; decaorn=10 days; stellar cycle=year; and vorn=83 years.

oOoOo

"[Life] is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."  
--_MacBeth,_ Shakespeare

_**Chapter 1: Fury**_

The monitors flickered dimly in the darkness of the _Nemesis'_ control room, Starscream having reduced their brightness for the sake of his 'headache.' As though honoring the fall of night, the room sat in a near silence broken only by a soft electronic hum. Outside the port window, the ocean's blackness reduced visibility, and the shark that surged past the ship's hull gave the Seeker a mild start.

Punishment. In a simple word, Starscream's disgraceful relegation to the graveyard shift was humiliating punishment. Starscream's decision to shoot Megatron's newest toy in the back had resulted in the second-to-worst beating of his life once his fellow Decepticons had caught him. Granted, he'd taken supreme satisfaction in Megatron's hissy fit over losing Nightbird, and his trine's secret but growing unease over the human-created 'bot had resulted in their allowing Starscream to out distance them long enough for Megatron to get past the point of wanting to kill him. Nevertheless, when they'd captured him, Megatron's unleashed rage had resulted in the Constructicons having to retrieve his various pieces before he could be repaired.

However, to Megatron, Starscream's extreme agony had not been enough. Hook had been ordered to finish the minor repairs slowly over the course of several decaorns, leaving Starscream with a multitude of aches and pains, and then the second-in-command had been relegated to the graveyard shift "until further notice."

"Bastard," Starscream hissed under his breath. To be sentenced to stare at monitors all through the night! To be unable to work on his latest project! And to have those stupid Coneheads snicker every time they passed him or Rumble and Frenzy openly laugh at him in the mess hall! It was a humiliation not to be borne.

"Plotting my demise again, are we?" called a taunting voice from the doorway.

Starscream glared at Megatron's lurking form, his optics narrowing into red slits. So the tyrant had stopped by to gloat over his newest round of abuse. "No more than you are mine, oh _mighty_ leader."

Megatron snorted and crossed the room to tower over him. "I was not the one fool enough to sabotage the most useful addition to our ranks in millions of stellar cycles." A smirk twisted the corner of his mouth upward. "With her upgraded programming, all she lacked was a vocal processor. I maintain she was good enough to replace you."

The same insult again and again, only rephrased. It seemed to Starscream that he could never escape the accusation that he was subpar. A fool. Rage seemed to convert the energon flowing through Starscream's body into boiling oil. "Then you are too easily impressed, _mighty_ Megatron. Even reprogrammed, no human creation could equal a Decepticon."

"You think so?" Megatron leaned into his face, his voice a soft growl. "I agree, but only in the sense that I was fool enough to promote you to my SIC. If I had the ability to transverse time, I'd reverse my decision."

The words seared him. That was Megatron's goal, of course, and Starscream knew it well. He tried not to rise to the bait, to not reveal his outrage, but the pain which bolted through his spark like lightning overcame all his resistance. Even after so many millennia, no one could hurt him the way that Megatron could. "If I could travel through time, I would shoot you the instant I met you! And if you do kill me, I swear I will haunt you."

"Haunt me?" Megatron laughed and turned toward the door. "Every fool knows that sparks cannot wander the universe disembodied. Stop picking up those stupid human myths." He paused in the doorway, casting a look of mock pity upon him. "However, I suppose if such a thing were possible, you would be petty and vindictive enough to do it. But you're not dead - yet - so enjoy your desolate shift. I plan to make you keep it for quite some time."

Starscream glared at the doorway long after Megatron had left, sick to his tanks with hate, but then his shoulders sagged. Had he ever won an argument with the megalomaniac? After all the times his unheeded warnings or advice had turned out to be correct, had his foresight ever been acknowledged? Although over the millennia Starscream had come to enjoy questioning Megatron's plans and intelligence - had come to coat his words with sarcasm and disdain - in truth it was a sub-commander's job to be a sounding board and a failsafe, not a high-ranked lackey. As an ex-scientist and an aerial tactician, Starscream was supposed to respectfully point out cracks and fissures in his leader's logic and plans.

"I was a naïve fool," Starscream whispered to the quiet room. Megatron had made sure he spent every shift alone, so no voice answered him. The soft whirl of the computer's cooling fans kicking on was the only response to his admission. "Why did I ever respect him? Why did I ever look up to him?" _He always calls me a fool, and I give as good as I get. But secretly, I can't argue. I am a fool. What did I see in him that made me so blind?_

Even after millions of stellar cycles, the question was still rhetorical. The countless beatings Starscream had undergone had never damaged his memory banks. He remembered quite well what he'd felt when he'd joined the Decepticon cause, and the pain of those memories was far greater than Megatron's worst punishments.

oOoOo

The tetra jet held his wings high as he walked through the citadel. Today was graduation at the Cybertron War Academy, and as the valedictorian of his class, Starscream had the distinction of leading the other jets in a flashy flight demonstration for the audience. Although Starscream had at first been irritated at returning to an academy when he was no longer a youngling, he had quickly found many of his classmates were returning students as well, thanks to the war. Relieved by this knowledge and boosted by a science degree and years of experience as a deep space explorer, Starscream had quickly risen to the top of the class.

So it was with great pride that he strutted down the main hallway toward the take off ramp where the other jets awaited him. With a magnetic crown emblem attached to his chest, indicating his status as valedictorian, Starscream knew that every Cybertronian who looked upon him saw his success. Since the audience was still assembling and many were socializing, he was nearly drunk with happiness as whispers broke out around him.

"I heard he's the fastest among all the Seekers," one mech whispered.

Starscream pretended not to hear, but he had his audio sensors attuned as finely as possible. He wanted their praise. He _needed_ it.

"Heh. Isn't he Stardust's son? You shouldn't be so surprised. That old son of a glitch doesn't turn out anything but the best."

Starscream mentally flinched at those words, but he didn't lose his smile for a moment. This was _his_ day, after all.

"I feel sorry for whichever faction fails to sway the remaining Seekers," came another whisper. "This particular class has many strong candidates, and I heard that one is their top flier. And air power will likely turn the tide of the war."

A warm sensation washed through Starscream, kicking on his cooling vents for a brief moment but making him radiate joy. Had he realized this reception could await him, he would have agreed to attend the War Academy sooner. He smiled upward at his classmates and friends, Thundercracker and Skywarp, who had already taken their spot on the ramp. Skywarp was gesturing wildly about something and laughing, and Thundercracker was smiling softly at his animated friend. However, when they caught sight of Starscream, they both turned and waved for him to join them. Having found both relief and camaraderie with them after the painful loss of his best friend, Skyfire, Starscream returned their smiles and increased his pace.

Until he saw his father.

Stardust, an ancient mech by most anyone's standards, stood with his arms crossed at the ramp's bottom. To each side of him hovered his other two remaining children, Spitfire and Solardance, both of whom leered at Starscream. He tensed instantly. His siblings had graduated from the War Academy at the top of their respective classes some millennia earlier and were clearly unimpressed with his accomplishment. As for Stardust himself, the grey and navy Seeker looked as though he'd downed three cubes of sour energon. Although the loss of his bondmate and other five children had made the old mech irritable, he had never been particularly approachable.

"Father," Starscream said in greeting as he stopped before the taller Seeker.

"Looks like the runt thinks he's earned the title of warrior now," Spitfire said before their father could reply. "Look how high and mighty he's acting, strutting through the Academy like he owns the place!"

Starscream narrowed his optics at his sibling, irritated by the red mech's usual antics. He was actually faintly taller than both Spitfire and Solardance, but since he was the youngest of all Stardust's children, they had nicknamed him 'runt.'

"No joke." Solardance snickered. "He acts like he's done something special by graduating at the top of his class! As if all seven of us didn't do the same prior to him!"

That much was true. Half of Starscream's joy this day came from achieving what all seven of his siblings had. He searched his father's face for an indication of satisfaction or, at the very least, acknowledgement.

Stardust's features remained neutral, unreadable. He ignored the taunts of his older children and focused on his youngest. "In the end, I simply have one question for you."

Although he fought to keep his own face equally neutral, Starscream felt his spark dim. All his endless daydreams of being congratulated by his father had been a foolish waste of time, he realized. A fantasy. "What is that, Father?"

"Now that you have graduated from the War Academy, do you understand why you should have attended it from the beginning?" Red optics narrowed. "Now that you have seen what it means to become a warrior, do you realize why it was a waste of your talent to attend the Science Academy and flit around the galaxy as a mere _explorer?_"

In truth, Starscream didn't want to give his creator or siblings the satisfaction of seeing his pain, but he couldn't contain a hiss of rage. "If anything, _Father_, the knowledge and experience I gained as a scientist and 'mere explorer' are what enabled me to outstrip everyone in the class."

When Stardust tilted his head to the side and scoffed, Starscream knew he'd made a terrible mistake.

"Oh! The runt still thinks he's something special!" Spitfire began howling with laughter.

Stardust sighed, his disappointment evident. "You are such a fool, Starscream. Your siblings achieved the same thing with no prior experience other than the training I gave each of you. All you have done is underscored your weakness and, frankly, your cowardice." He turned and gestured for his older children to follow him. "You have finally redeemed the family name," he called over his shoulder to his youngest. "I will no longer have to listen to others' snickering and insults over having a scientist in my ranks. But never be so arrogant as to think you have attained or surpassed our family standards."

"Yeah," Solardance yelled as they retreated into the crowd. "And don't embarrass us during the air show!"

For long moments, Starscream couldn't move or speak. He felt as though someone had fired straight through his spark. However, unbeknownst to him, Thundercracker had walked down the ramp toward him and now set a hand on his shoulder. Starscream jumped faintly from the unexpected touch.

"Was that your family?" he asked.

Starscream knew the question was half-rhetorical. "Yes." His voice was utterly flat, devoid of all emotion. He wondered how much his friend had overheard.

"Your siblings are obnoxious." Thundercracker smiled. "Especially the solid red one."

Starscream nodded. He'd always hated Spitfire the most of all his siblings or, at least, the ones that were still alive when he'd been created. He wondered sometimes if the ones who had died before his creation had been total slaggers, too.

"Well, that's a bunch of slag," Thundercracker murmured. "Come on, Star. It's almost time for our performance, and you know we all have it down perfectly."

Skywarp teleported over to them and apparently caught the end of the conversation. "Yeah, 'Screamer! Let's go!"

"Don't call me that," he said drily. He'd taken enough insults over his unusual vocal processor when at the Science Academy.

Skywarp was oblivious. "Let's go! Let's go! I want to blow all their minds away."

Starscream summoned a smile he didn't feel and nodded, following his classmates to their assigned locations. He thought he'd be faintly nervous while awaiting the cue to begin the sky show, but his father had killed not only his joy but all his emotions. He felt nothing.

Therefore, it was with clinical interest that he noted the cue from the master of ceremonies. With the cold, collected voice of a battle veteran, he gave the order: "Seekers! Transform."

All ten transformed in perfect synch, igniting their thrusters and soaring into the sky over Cybertron. With the air blowing across his wings, Starscream forgot his pain and gave himself to the dance, to the perfectly timed and coordinated demonstration. Freeing his spark as only flying allowed, he led his classmates through a series of graceful loops, hairpin turns, and tactical stunts. The routine Starscream had been allowed to lead and help design was the most complicated one in two hundred stellar cycles, and that fact helped him to relax and enjoy giving the show. Even if his own family didn't care, surely everyone else could see the extent of his planning and the perfection of his and his fellow classmates' performance.

For a moment, nothing in the universe mattered except the rushing wind and singing jet engines. To break away from the restraint of gravity, soaring through the atmosphere, wings catching the current . . . gliding, turning, flipping . . . to shoot forward, thrusters at full, snap through a turn only a topnotch tetra jet could manage . . . it was the embodiment of the greatest gift Primus could give.

At the show's conclusion, Starscream landed gracefully, transforming with effortless precision. His classmates landed behind him, and they were greeted with a thunderous round of applause. A quick glance at the audience revealed his family wasn't impressed, but Starscream found the sting far less painful in the light of the crowd's admiration.

What he also noticed was a tall, rather unusual mech standing at the very back of the crowd. Broad-shouldered and silver with a warrior's helmet, the mech leaned against a column, his arms crossed. Beside him stood a bulky, one-opticked mech. Neither of them was applauding, but the silver mech's attention seemed riveted on Starscream, and even at a distance, the Seeker could see his smile.

The scientist within Starscream was immediately intrigued, and he wondered if he could find the mech afterward and meet him.

oOoOo

Once the ceremony ended, Starscream found himself surrounded by congratulatory Seekers who praised the air show. In light of his father's and siblings' blatant shunning of him for the company of other nobles, he couldn't deny himself the simple acknowledgement that he had done well. Still, he scanned the crowd for signs of the strange silver mech. Finding none, Starscream's curiosity left him disappointed.

He didn't remain disappointed for long.

As all the other graduates left with their families for some high-grade energon and celebration, Starscream traced his way through the corridors toward the students' living quarters. His family had come just to put in an appearance, of course, and even if they had invited him home, he would have refused. It was there, in the abandoned foyer of the students' apartment tower, that Starscream found the silver mech. Once again, he was leaning against a column with his arms crossed, but this time he had an enormous fusion cannon mounted to his right arm.

Starscream halted abruptly at this sight, unsure how to interpret the addition of such an overwhelming weapon.

However, the silver mech merely smiled. "Shall I introduce myself, Starscream son of Stardust?"

Starscream examined the stranger more closely this time, his scientific habits of mind still ingrained deeply within him: powerful frame to match the warrior's helmet and fusion gun, extraordinary height compared to most other mechs, and a gleam to his armor that suggested special, damage-resistant alloys. He was reminded of Spitfire's ravings about the gladiatorial games that used to take place and thought the silver mech looked like he could have been an arena champion.

The stranger's smile suggested he noted Starscream's detailed attention. "I am Megatron, leader of -"

"The Decepticons!" Starscream interrupted, shocked. He'd heard the name countless times, spoken with both admiration and hate. In the War Academy, most students traded stories of the Deceptions' battles with a feverish glee, clearly finding the faction more appealing than their Autobot enemies. Starscream's family had remained among the neutrals thus far, although he knew Spitfire was a Decepticon sympathizer, and he himself had ignored the war at first, finding science a far more interesting endeavor. However, the war had come to most everyone's door, and neither Starscream nor his family would be able to remain neutral much longer.

Megatron pushed away from the column, his grin seeming a touch smug. "That's right, young Seeker." He stepped close and rested his hand on Starscream's shoulder. "I saw your performance and was most impressed with your abilities. Although you come from a strong class, your talents are clearly superior to your classmates'."

Opening his mouth, Starscream began to reply only to find himself speechless. Praise from someone as famous as Megatron despite their just having met? It was as though some small segment of his daydreams had managed to cross over into reality.

"Also, I'm aware of your previous position as a scientist, as well as your inventions." Megatron tapped the null ray gun attached to Starscream's right arm.

He glanced downward at his arms. The null ray guns had been his culminating project for the War Academy - a scientific invention, yes, but one befitting a warrior. Despite his teachers' praise, his father had been singularly unimpressed, as usual.

_"Impractical," the ancient Seeker had declared. "Why stun or cause dysfunction when you can kill with one blast?"_

Starscream raised his gaze to meet Megatron's, searching for traces of sarcasm or disdain. None were present, only fascination and interest. "They can serve many functions," he finally replied. "It's a versatile weapon."

Megatron's optics shone brightly. "Indeed." He placed his other hand on Starscream's shoulder as well, then squeezed lightly. "You have a scientist's gaze and knowledge, but a warrior's heart and training, not to mention your speed and precision in flight, which are outstanding even among your peers. Such talents are needed in the Decepticon army. It is time, young Seeker, to make your choice. Which faction will benefit from your abilities?"

The question was blunt and straightforward. Megatron's intentions were clear, but so were the implications. This famous warrior saw and recognized what Starscream had to offer, and he didn't discredit his scientific pursuits. Above all, he actually _wanted_ him in his army because of his abilities. No disdain. Just flat out interest and recruitment.

Once again, Starscream found himself rendered momentarily speechless. Somehow his dream had peeled itself out of his databanks and brought itself to life. Finding his voice, he managed to reply to the question beneath the question. "Of course," he said, his tone resolute but quiet with awe. "I would be honored to join the Decepticons. Any true warrior would."

Megatron's smile dazzled him with its blatant approval. "Excellent, Starscream." He stepped to the side, put his arm around his shoulders, and led him away. "Let us go celebrate, then, with a round of high-grade."

Starscream gazed up at the silver mech with a sense of pride he couldn't squelch and a wave of wonderment he couldn't repress. Suddenly, it meant the universe to him that he prove to Megatron that his beliefs were well-placed, that he really was as talented as the air show suggested. He wanted to see that smile again, over and over, to hear the words "Excellent, Starscream" repeated countless times.

He allowed the older mech to guide him away from the Academy for a celebration with his new 'family.'

oOoOo

"Fool," Starscream whispered to himself, sinking his head into his hands and ignoring the dim monitors. How young and stupid he had been then to think Megatron held any real interest in him except as a way to recruit the remaining neutral Seekers among his peers. True, he had risen to the rank of second-in-command and air commander, but ultimately he was expendable, not to mention that Megatron never listened to his advice, no matter how obviously it fell within his realm of scientific expertise.

No. All Starscream was to Megatron was a punching bag, as his current aching joints and wings proved, and the tyrant had invented insults to hurl at him that Stardust had never dreamt of.

"If I could travel through time, I would kill you the instant I met you," Starscream repeated to his absent leader.

As of late, Starscream had begun wondering if his revived ex-friend Skyfire was right. Maybe it would have been better to have remained a scientist, to have found a way to stay neutral or at least stay out of the way. For all the many exciting battles he'd seen, millennia of Megatron's abuse made him wonder if such excitement was worth the price.

But time could not be reversed nor his decision undone. All he could do now was try to dethrone the tyrant and take his place. No more insults would be hurled his way then, for if anyone tried, he would execute them immediately.

Despite all these dark thoughts, though, there was one question, one memory that Starscream did not broach: why Megatron hated him so especially much and why he even still cared.

That was a subject to be avoided at all costs.

* * *

_Postscript: Thank you for checking out my first TF fanfic. I hope you will leave a review. I also have a request. Someone please have pity on me and clarify TF time increments. Thank you!_


	2. Living Lies

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 1! You guys rock!_

_

* * *

  
_

_"I am the lie living for you so you can hide."  
--"Hello," Evanesence_

_**Chapter 2: Living Lies**_

Megatron retreated to his quarters, where he settled in his desk chair. Pouring himself a glass of high-grade, he leaned back, lifting his legs and crossing his ankles on the desk's edge. With a vicious little smile, he swirled the energon around the glass before taking a sip, inhaling the rose-colored liquid's rich smell.

One perk of being the supreme commander was the spoils of war. The other was the ability to dole out any punishment he saw fit.

With a single finger tap, he activated his computer port and spied on the control room where Starscream sat alone.

"If I could travel through time, I would kill you the instant I met you," Starscream whispered to the empty room, no doubt believing he would not be overheard.

"Foolish glitch," Megatron muttered, sipping from his glass. He knew perfectly well that abnormalities occasionally opened time portals, but as far as he knew, no one had ever been able to open one on purpose or control it - yet. Despite all the irritation Starscream had caused him, Megatron would not reverse his decision to recruit the Seeker.

Indeed, to this day Megatron clearly remembered the shock on the tetra jet's innocent grey face when he'd revealed his identity. Despite his time spent as an explorer and scientist, Starscream hadn't been much past a youngling when he'd graduated from the War Academy. So young, so naïve.

Megatron snickered into his glass. "A perfect ploy," he said, congratulating himself again after millions of stellar cycles. He had realized early in his campaign that air power would be the key to Decepticon victory on Cybertron and that recruiting the tetra jets should be his top priority. He had been gratified when most noble houses had joined his cause easily, having been created as a warrior class. Fortunately, the commoners had followed suit. One of his great irritations, however, had been the House of Stardust, which had been one of the last to remain neutral. Megatron had felt that Stardust himself was too ancient to be of much practical use, but he had relentlessly pursued the children, who were all known for their top-notch specs.

Megatron stared at his computer monitor, watching Starscream hold his head in his hands. "Too bad, my foolish little Seeker, that there were only three of you left."

Granted, he had recruited all three eventually, but Spitfire had been too rash and idiotic to live long on the battlefield, while Solardance, for all his power, had proven himself a complete coward in battle. Megatron had relegated him to grunt work.

Starscream, though . . .

An inexplicable anger rushed through Megatron's circuits, and he hurled his empty glass at the wall, shattering it and taking satisfaction from the shards glimmering in the dim cabin lights. "My greatest disappointment," he said, optics narrowing.

At the time, however, Starscream had seemed perfect.

oOoOo

"The reports seem true, Lord Megatron," Shockwave said, nodding his boxy face toward the young Seeker who approached the ramp.

Megatron leaned against a column decorating the War Academy's veranda and let his gaze sweep the crowd assembling for the graduation ceremony. With some amusement, he watched the silver, red, and blue tetra jet strut out of the main corridor, passing under the Academy's vaulted entrance and onto the terrace that hosted the take off ramp. The Academy, with its open-air structure, drew attention to its elegant architecture and shone as though it were made of silver and gold. Megatron noted that his target looked regal enough to warrant his surroundings.

"He does seem quite proud, yes," Megatron replied, his gaze falling on the valedictorian's crown emblem that Starscream wore. "That should make him easy enough to manipulate."

"And with his popularity, his decision should sway the remaining Seekers," Shockwave said. "Or rather, his and his family's popularity."

Megatron smirked. That was the whole point, of course. And the arrogant slagger who had refused his recruitment was only nine mechanometers away, standing at the ramp's base. "Looks as though Stardust plans to speak to his son before the air show. No doubt it's some speech about living up to the family's noble standards."

Shockwave snorted, the sound warped faintly by his buried vocal processor. "They should enjoy their foolishness while they can. Soon the war will erase all remnants of the caste system."

Megatron fingered his chin, noticing the way Starscream's wings tensed when he approached his father. "Yes. There will only be warriors and victims, conquers and slaves. And Stardust will be a rusting heap of slag." He recognized the acidic hate that had slipped into his words and reigned in his rage. Stardust had been one of the nobles who had watched Megatron's gladiatorial battles and bet on the outcome, and Megatron's change in status seemed unnoticed by the ancient Seeker. "And his children will be among my loyal ranks."

"No doubt, Lord Megatron."

Megatron ignored Shockwave's reply as he watched the increasingly tense body language of the four noble Seekers conversing below. The crowd's noise was too loud for him to hear what was being said, but their posture and facial expressions told him that they considered Starscream inferior. "The rest of your information seems true as well." He glanced at Shockwave to test his reaction.

The boxy mech's single optic flashed as he replied. "I used our top spies, so I had little doubt. I saw, too, though. This Starscream is obviously the moon among the planets."

Megatron leered at Shockwave's use of the old cliché, but it seemed true, nonetheless. All they lacked was the reason for Stardust's disdain toward his youngest child. Confident in his ability to deduce the truth, however, Megatron relaxed against his chosen backrest and awaited what he assumed would be a typical air show. He'd been recruiting tetra jets from the War Academy long enough to have seen several dozen performances and found the whole event quite tedious.

He was not prepared for what he saw this time.

Starscream's emotionless order carried the determination and coldness of a fearless commander: "Seekers! Transform."

Despite himself, Megatron found himself intrigued by the youngster's demeanor, but he forgot to question it as the tetra jets blasted into the sky. Starscream broke the sound barrier within seconds, his classmates following suit, and effortlessly zipped through a series of corkscrews and turns. Suddenly riveted, Megatron stared at the silver form as the tension seemed to bleed from his wings, all traces of his encounter seemingly forgotten in the rushing wind. With sleek grace, Starscream led his team through intake-hitching dives and hairpin turns that shot them between tightly-packed skyscrapers. Starlight reflected off Starscream's silver and red paint, flashing across his wings in barely-perceptible streaks. The Seeker's speed, his precision, his sheer talent dazzled Megatron.

"Lord Megatron?"

Shockwave's tone told Megatron that he had repeated himself several times. He glanced toward his officer as the Seekers landed and the audience burst into deafening applause. "What is it?"

"This performance indicates that the Seeker's specs have been underestimated," Shockwave replied. "Especially concerning his speed."

"Indeed?" Megatron smiled and returned his gaze to Starscream. He didn't bother to applaud, feeling the action was beneath him, but he couldn't withhold his intense desire to recruit the Seeker immediately.

As though sensing the warrior's thoughts, Starscream chose that moment to glance in his direction. For a moment, their gazes met.

_I will have you, young Seeker,_ Megatron promised himself. _And then you will bring the remaining neutrals to my side._

Starscream was now staring at him, clearly intrigued by something he saw, and Megatron held in a laugh.

oOoOo

Megatron trailed Starscream through the campus, slipping between corridors and terraces until he determined the Seeker's destination was the living quarters. Increasing his speed, he made sure to reach the building first, then once again leaned against a column to await his target.

"All alone on such a night, are we?" Megatron murmured, his optics narrowing in thought. While all the other graduates had left with their families for high-grade and celebration, the valedictorian had been ignored by his father and siblings. Furthermore, once Starscream had left the exultant crowd who had been praising him, he seemed to grow tense again.

Strategy in place, Megatron removed his fusion cannon from subspace and mounted it on his arm. He saw no reason to hide his identity or intentions from his potential recruit.

Starscream entered through the automatic door and halted abruptly, a smile ghosting across his lips until his gaze landed on the fusion cannon. Immediately, he seemed ill-at-ease.

Amused, Megatron spoke first. "Shall I introduce myself, Starscream son of Stardust?"

The Seeker didn't reply. Instead, his gaze travelled the length of Megatron's body, clearly assessing his appearance, demeanor, and armor. Megatron's growing amusement could hardly be contained, and he smirked, knowing what kind of figure he struck. He felt the smirk ease into a smile, however, when Starscream met his gaze. He could practically feel the Seeker scientifically analyzing him. A sharp, quick mind.

Somehow pleased with Starscream's reaction, Megatron continued. "I am Megatron, leader of-"

"The Decepticons!"

Megatron hated to be interrupted, but Starscream's shock and awe were so evident he failed to get irritated. With those wide red optics staring up at him, so clearly showing he was flattered, the Seeker was a picture of innocence.

This was going to be easy.

Megatron pushed away from the column. "That's right, young Seeker." Suspecting that Starscream had been stung by his family's rejection of him, he stepped close and rested his hand on the Seeker's shoulder. "I saw your performance and was most impressed with your abilities. Although you come from a strong class, your talents are clearly superior to your classmates'." Starscream's wings perked up, and his entire posture straightened. Encouraged, Megatron continued to feed the young jet's pride. "Also, I'm aware of your previous position as a scientist, as well as your inventions." He tapped the null ray gun attached to Starscream's right arm, aware that his words would seem sincere. In truth, they were. On this count, Megatron had no need to act or manipulate. He had learned of the invention and wanted such power in his ranks.

A wide range of emotions passed across Starsream's face: shock, pain, distrust, and finally hope. Watching this reaction, Megatron realized Stardust's problem with his youngest child had been his interest in science. No doubt, the ancient noble had considered such a pursuit ridiculous for a warrior class and had condemned his son's career choice. Megatron steeled himself to show more uncharacteristic physical affection, knowing his attention and interest were overwhelming Starscream's processor, and congratulated himself on so easily winning his prize.

oOoOo

Megatron growled softly as he watched his new recruits sparring with each other. Just as he had predicted, Starscream's enlistment into his ranks had swayed all his fellow Seeker classmates and even his own brothers. He now had twenty two shrieking tetra jets spraying the training room's floor with lubricant in their attempts to one-up each other and win their leader's approval. From his experience with his earlier Seeker recruits, Megatron knew they tended to be jumpy and easily agitated, especially when retained in underground facilities for too long. With their yells bouncing off the steel walls of the Deception headquarter's basement, however, Megatron felt the violent urge to rip out all their vocal processors.

The door to his left slid open, and Shockwave strolled into the room, seemingly unbothered by the squawking. He joined Megatron on the platform and gazed down at the sparring jets. "This might be the one test where he won't rank first."

There was no need to ask who "he" was. Starscream had out-performed every recruit, including his siblings, on each test so far: speed, alt-mode target practice, root-mode target practice, and tactical flying. In a sparring test, however, he was at a disadvantage when facing older, more experienced, and larger mechs. He'd only lasted as long as he had thanks to his null rays. The sneaky little glitch had a real knack for shooting his competitors in the back.

Megatron smirked, pleased.

"I see why you insisted on recruiting him," Shockwave said, finally admitting the full logic of Megatron's choice. Given the mech's disdain for the overly emotional Seekers, his words counted as a significant change in stance.

However, Megatron merely nodded in response, knowing that his thoughts weren't currently very logical and would likely scandalize Shockwave. For a reason he couldn't deduce, Megatron kept finding himself staring at Starscream's fine silver paint job and graceful movements. It was odd to find himself distracted by a pretty face, especially that of a mech. Granted, their species was non-gendered, and interfacing and bonding worked the same whether one chose a mech or femme. Still, preferences arose in many due to aesthetic sensibilities, and Megatron had always been drawn to femmes for his one-night flings. Yet here he was, obsessively watching a shiny, young Seeker mech.

Shockwave's continued commentary drew him from his thoughts. "Given that he has previous experience as an explorer," he said, "it would be logical to go ahead and assign him to a unit."

"Agreed," Megatron replied, and he realized that he sounded a touch too pleased. He glanced at Shockwave, whose silent one-opticked gaze told him that his fascination confounded the officer. Megatron had never known anyone to so worship logic, and he held in a sigh. "Bring me a list of the units currently in need of members and indicate which ones aren't currently on assignment. Since he lacks real-life battle experience, we'll need to place him wisely."

Seemingly appeased by this show of logic, Shockwave nodded. "Yes, Lord Megatron."

Megatron waited until his officer left the room before resuming his staring. He briefly wondered how easy it would be to manipulate the Seeker into his berth for a night, but he discarded the idea, believing he should keep his extracurricular activities reserved for those not under his command. The potential complications were too numerous otherwise.

As expected, Starscream lost to his current sparring opponent and was ordered off the floor by the supervising trainer. He would rank eighth this time. His siblings, both of whom had yet to be beaten, jeered at him as he walked to the wall and joined his blue- and purple-painted friends. However, he seemed to sense Megatron's stare and looked toward him with a smile.

Megatron stiffened, uncomfortable with the idea that any of his soldiers would think he admired them. He did purposefully play favorites, but always for tactical reasons, such as rerouting mechs' ambitions to take his place by making them jealous of each other. It was a wonderful way to make them consume all their time and energy with beating their "rivals" instead of focusing on dethroning him.

Starscream, though, seemed to either see past that ploy or be too confident to be bothered by it. He sauntered to the stage and grinned. "Have you turned off your audio processors in order to avoid the racket?" he asked with a wicked chuckle.

Megatron felt his optic ridge rise. "Why would I do that?"

The Seeker's teasing demeanor didn't falter. "Are you going to claim that a horde of grounded tetra jets all screaming at each other isn't tiresome?"

"I am the leader of an army, young Seeker. I am immune to such petty irritants," Megatron scoffed. However, as though to spite him, a particularly horrendous screech erupted from the floor as Spitfire lost his match, and Megatron's right optic twitched at the sound.

Starscream's optics glowed a deeper crimson, and he laughed. "I see now why your army earned the name 'Decepticons.'"

Megatron knew quite well that Starscream simply wanted his attention. He craved it, in fact, and Megatron's only use for such a trait was to manipulate it. Yet he found himself laughing as well. Perhaps it was merely a result of spending too much time around Shockwave and his relentless dry logic.

Starscream brightened at his laughter, his wings twitching faintly in apparent joy. Watching this, Megatron decided he wanted Starscream to eventually replace his current air commander, who was growing too old to keep pace with his younger troops. Starscream had all the specs to rise to that position. All he needed was a boost to his ambition and, perhaps, a killing edge in battle. Given the young Seeker's thirst for attention and praise, such things could easily be conditioned into him.

Vorns would pass before Megatron realized what impact his impulsive decision would create.

oOoOo

Dropping his ankles from his desk, Megatron stood and retrieved a new glass, which he filled with more high-grade energon. His computer monitor showed him that Starscream had resumed staring at the security monitors with an expression of utter ennui. The Seeker's wings drooped faintly, revealing either his boredom or his pain, or perhaps both. In his anger over Nightbird's loss and Starscream's latest betrayal, Megatron had lost his temper completely, ripping off both his wings, smashing his midsection, and crushing his right forearm. He hadn't stopped beating his SIC until the Seeker had fallen into stasis lock and bled a puddle of energon all over the grass. Furthermore, he had been sorely tempted to not call the Constructicons to retrieve Starscream and piece him back together.

With a sigh, Megatron turned off his monitor and sat on his recharge berth, balancing his glass on his leg. He relaxed against the wall, sipping his high-grade from time to time, and tried to avoid the inevitable questions that haunted him: Why didn't he finish the job? Why did he not just kill Starscream?

"Fool," Megatron hissed at himself as an ache bloomed in his main processor. He reached up and massaged his temple, a gesture he'd unconsciously absorbed from the flesh creatures. For someone usually so self-aware, Megatron's confusion concerning Starscream always produced cranial pain.

Megatron knew that his manipulation of the Seeker had backfired, but he had never figured out precisely why. Young Starscream had followed him around relentlessly with a rather obvious case of hero-worship, and his peers' nasty remarks on the behavior had simply earned them a solid shot from his null ray. Starscream's need for attention and affirmation had become exhausting, and Megatron had done his best to condition the behavior out of him. However, each step of the way, the Seeker had become more hateful, more unstable, and more ambitious.

"What did you want from me?" Megatron asked his absent air commander. That Starscream had wanted the approval that his father had never given him had been obvious, but underlying that pathetic need was a tension Megatron couldn't puzzle out.

He downed the remainder of his high-grade in one gulp and hurled the glass at the wall, listening once again to the satisfying shattering sound. He then lay on his berth, staring at the ceiling, and tried to determine if that inexplicable tension was in some way tied to his refusal to kill Starscream.

For a moment, Megatron missed the early camaraderie he'd had with his air commander and regretted the confusing orn Starscream's loyalty and hero-worship had shattered into shards smaller than those that now littered Megatron's cabin floor. But the past was the past, and despite their newest round of insults toward each other, neither Megatron nor Starscream could peel back time.

Perhaps it would not be so enraging if Megatron could only figure out the missing pieces of the puzzle. He tried to call up the data from his memory banks, but the energon buzzed in his system now. Without his consent, his body fell into recharge.


	3. Broken

_A/N: Comm. link dialogue = :: ::_

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, faved, and/or put an alert on my story, and special thanks to the two of you who pointed me toward TFwiki._

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_"Don't try to fix me; I'm not broken."  
--"Hello," Evanesense_

_**Chapter 3: Broken**_

::_Nemesis,_ come in.::

Starscream jerked out of his recharge, then fought to online his optics and shake the fuzz from his main processor.

::Thundercracker to _Nemesis!_ Come in.::

Starscream jabbed with comm. button with one finger, and then looked around the control room to see if he were still alone. His wings slumped in relief when he found no one had walked in on his accidental recharge. ::Roger, Thundercracker,:: he answered his wingmate.

::Starscream?:: Thundercracker sounded surprised. ::Uh, Skywarp and I are half a breem out. Request the surfacing of the tower.::

Starscream checked the radar and saw his trine's signatures and no evidence they were being followed. ::Request granted.:: Even to his own audios, his intonation sounded flat. He activated the controls to raise the tower from the ocean floor. ::_Nemesis_ out.::

Task completed, Starscream checked his internal clock. 07:42 hours earth time. Megatron and the first shift would arrive shortly. He carefully verified that each system and monitor showed no malfunctions or signs of the enemy. Finding none, he relaxed. Megatron couldn't punish him for overlooking anything, not that such a small thing would save him from Megatron's wrath if he had onlined in a foul mood. It didn't take much to set Megatron off. As of late, sometimes it didn't take anything at all.

A few klicks later, the turbolift doors hissed open, and Starscream glanced over his shoulder. Thundercracker stepped into the room and crossed his arms, but Skywarp sauntered over to Starscream and sneered at him.

"Whoa, you really slagged off Megatron this time," the purple and black jet said. "TC and I were sure that by the time we returned from our mission, ol' Megs would have gotten over his fit and put you back on first shift."

Starscream opened his mouth, his vocalizer on the verge of one of his nastier comebacks, but the words died in his throat. He didn't feel angry anymore. He felt empty, as though all the complex circuits, meters of wiring, and various processors in him were gone and all that was left was a hollow shell filled with blackness. "No, he hasn't," he finally replied, then turned his attention to the security monitors.

An eerie silence coated the room, seeming to drown even the whirl of electronics, and Starscream imagined that he could smell Skywarp's shock. He and his trine had been razzing each other ever since their academy orns, and they rarely attached any significance to it. Generally, they only irritated each other when they succumbed to their shared terror of Megatron and blamed one another for mistakes. For Starscream to not engage in their little game of acidic words was unheard of.

In the monitor's reflection, Starscream could see Thundercracker cross the floor, but all he heard was a _thunk_ against the control room window as two sharks fought outside. Starscream glanced their way, watching as the larger shark pushed the smaller one against the window again. _Thunk._

"Starscream . . ." Thundercracker paused at his shoulder. "You really should learn to get your temper under control. You bring half of it on yourself, and Nightbird really would have made an excellent addition to our ranks."

Starscream continued to stare at the sharks. A flash of teeth, a mix of blood and water. "He was going to replace me." He considered the answer self-explanatory.

"Maybe you should be replaced!" Skywarp cut in. "Primus, Starscream, not too long ago you tried to blow up this entire cursed planet with us still on it."

"Hey, 'Warp. That's enough," Thundercracker replied.

The smaller shark struggled to escape its assailant, but the larger one bit its tailfin. Starscream sighed. "I thought you were all dead," he explained for what he counted to be the 187th time. Granted, he'd ordered Shockwave to not attempt any further communication in fear that Megatron's death was too good to be true. Still, by all indications, they were dead, and Starscream had little time to collect Earth's energy for Cybertron.

"You should have at least tried to contact us!" Skywarp grabbed Starscream's chair and swiveled it so he would face him. "We've only been in the same trine for almost the entire time since we graduated!"

The air commander stared at his wingmates and felt nothing but a ghost of pain. The universe seemed devoid of meaning. "You're right," he replied simply, unable to garner enough energy to fight for his pride. Even though they were Decepticons, they were Seekers first. Starscream knew he'd let his obsession with defeating Megatron and trumping the tyrant's lifework blind him. Normally he hated to be separated from his trine, but he hadn't even taken the time to care that they'd apparently died. He turned his gaze back to the fighting sharks. The smaller one was flailing helplessly, darkening the water with its blood.

"Starscream?" Thundercracker's voice was unusually kind.

The larger shark darted in a final time, ripping a chunk of flesh from his victim. The dying shark thrashed as it sank, trying to save its life, to survive, to spite its larger foe. _Thunk._ It hit the window again, leaving a blood splatter on the glass before sinking out of sight. The ocean's current, cold and uncaring, whisked over the window, slowly erasing all traces of the suffering.

"Starscream?" Thundercracker sounded worried now.

Starscream didn't look up from the window. "Welcome back to base," he said formally, the old but standard greeting being the closest he could come to an apology. Outside the ship, the larger shark circled once as though basking in its victory, then swam away.

A gentle hand stroked the length of his left wing, and Starscream jerked faintly, turning a shocked stare upon Thundercracker.

"It is good to be back," Thundercracker responded, using the antiquated reply.

_Apology accepted,_ Starscream realized. Skywarp glared at him a nanoklick longer, then seemed to lose steam. Starscream suspected that Thundercracker's calmness was transferring to his mate through their bond. After a pause, Skywarp reached out and ran his hand down Starscream's right wing.

The air commander sagged in his chair, their touches easing his aches. Gentle hands continued to massage the expanse of silver metal, causing him to twitch his wings. The ritual wasn't sexual in nature, although it could be. It was a sign of affection, of care, of protection.

Starscream reached up and ran his hands on the underside of his trine's wings. Both relaxed at the touch, at the Seeker bonding ritual that had survived millennia despite the distrust, treachery, and hate infusing the Decepticon way of life.

The turbolift doors hissed open again, but the trine members were too busy caressing each other's wings to pay it heed. A beat of silence passed, then Megatron's voice cut across the room.

"What are you two doing?" Megatron's voice rasped with anger. "Comforting our resident traitor, are you?"

Skywarp and Thundercracker gasped and jumped away from their air commander.

"Lord Megatron," Thundercracker replied, his voice shaky. "We simply were . . . That is, in Seeker culture . . ."

Starscream watched the red glow in Megatron's optics flash deeper crimson. The slagger was going to pound his wingwates to dust. For a moment, he experienced a flash of amusement, of pleasure, of _justification._ If he had to suffer Megatron's wrath, his abuse, and his humiliation, then so should everyone else. The emotion passed quickly, however, falling into the void of meaninglessness, the black hole in Starscream's spark.

Thundercracker and Skywarp both cowered against the console beside Starscream as Megatron stepped forward, his fists clenched. Skywarp grabbed his bondmate's arm, no doubt considering teleporting them from the room, but that wouldn't save them for long.

"Enough," Starscream sighed, inexplicably weary of the whole violent routine. "They are my trine and technically still under my command. I ordered them to massage my wings, and they knew better than to disobey."

His fellow Seekers turned shocked stares upon him, their optics showing both gratitude and fear for Starscream's life.

Megatron focused his attention on his second-in-command, his optics narrowing. "Is that so?"

Starscream twitched his wings in a particularly sultry way that never failed to enrage Megatron and then smirked at him. "I needed some kind of distraction from this unbearably boring shift."

Megatron pointed at Thundercracker and Skywarp, then pointed at the door. "Out!" he howled.

Skywarp didn't bother with the door; he teleported his bondmate and himself from the room.

Starscream watched them go and tried to take satisfaction in knowing he'd sealed their Seeker bonds again, repairing the damage he had caused. He was still staring at the spot they'd vacated when Megatron grabbed him by the throat and jerked him from his chair.

"You don't deserve any comfort, traitor!" Megatron's grip tightened. "You have defied me too many times, spoiled my plans too many times, and betrayed me too many times."

Starscream met the hate-filled gaze, but for once, his pleas to be spared never even ghosted across his vocalizer. _Is this what it's like to feel nothing?_ he wondered absently. _Is this the haze in which one no longer feels pain?_

Megatron threw him across the room, slamming him into the bulkhead, and Starscream tried to care that he was going to be permanently deactivated. In his processor, though, he saw the image of the smaller shark thrashing and dying under its foe's gaze. Pointless. All the shark had accomplished was smearing its blood on the window, where the uncaring ocean would erase its existence.

"What? No sarcastic comeback?" Megatron asked as he stomped across the floor. "No pathetic pleas for your miserable life?"

"Go to the Pit," Starscream replied flatly, his voice lacking any hate.

Megatron knelt and rammed his fist through Starscream's cockpit, causing him to shriek in pain, then ripped out a handful of cables.

The world offlined, snapping out of existence as though all reality were a glitch.

oOoOo

Starscream was sure he was dead. Had his spark rejoined the Well of All Sparks, the Creation Matrix, that mystical Allspark that everyone spoke of? Many claimed one's spark imparted all its knowledge to the Allspark as it refused with Primus. Was that why Starscream was suddenly seeing images from his life? Or perhaps he was in the Pit and was being punished by reliving his worst memories.

Starscream wasn't sure, but he found himself back on Megatron's first ship, the Dreadnought. Shockwave and he were at the controls, keeping the ship in orbit around the fifth moon of Delta Alpha Sigma. Megatron stood behind them, shouting orders to Soundwave over the comm. link.

_That day,_ Starscream thought with horror. _I don't want to relive that day!_

But he found himself inside his younger self, repeating the actions that damned him in Megatron's eyes.

"Lord Megatron," Starscream said as Megatron closed the comm. link. "The sensors indicate severe destabilization in the moon. We can't keep collecting energon, or the moon will -"

"I can read the sensors myself," Megatron interrupted. "Don't be such an alarmist. We'll drain the moon dry and still have plenty of time to escape should disaster occur."

Starscream watched the readings of the moon's electromagnetic field wildly fluctuate on the sensor readout. "But Lord Megatron," he said, scrambling to his feet, "we won't have time! That's what I'm trying to tell you." Why wasn't his leader listening to him? His specialty had been science! "With the energy this unstable, if we continue, we'll trigger a chain reaction that will culminate in an explosion of -"

"Silence!" Megatron grabbed the Seeker's right wing, pinching it painfully as he yanked him close and leaned into his face. "I'm not sure what is wrong with you today, but you'd best remember that when I give an order, you will follow it without question."

Starscream felt the energon run cold in his systems, half in fear of Megatron and half from the fear of dying. Their activities would cause the mine to explode like a miniature nova, and the scientist in Starscream could not be restrained. "But we will kill ourselves! It's going to cause -"

Megatron cut him off once more. "Stop being a coward!" The tyrant punched him in the chest, slamming him into the wall. "I admit I never expected you to fail me so." He glared at the Seeker. "I thought you were braver than that pathetic sibling of yours, Solardance."

Starscream slid down the bulkhead and hit the floor, too stunned to remain standing. Him? Be like Solardance? "I am no coward!" But his vocal processor trembled as he spoke - not from fear but from pain. He had never been the target of Megatron's rage, never been the one to be hit. He was special in Megatron's eyes, or so he had thought. Wasn't that why he'd been climbing the ranks so quickly? "Lord Megatron . . ."

Megatron sneered at him, his disdain evident. "It is time for you to cast off the remainder of your sparkling ways, young Seeker. I am not your replacement father, nor do I intend to be. Keep your insolence in check, or you will be punished in ways a father would never dream of."

Time. Stopped.

_I am not your replacement father, nor do I intend to be._

From his daze, Starscream tried to dredge up a reply, tried to make time resume. "I-insolence? I speak to you from my scientific training." Hadn't Megatron said he valued the Seeker's previous education and knowledge? Hadn't he valued what Stardust had not?

Megatron stalked over, grabbed Starscream by the throat, and jerked him to his feet. "I don't need scientists. I need warriors. Are you or are you not the star fighter jet I took you to be?"

_I am not your replacement father, nor do I intend to be._

"Of course I am!" Starscream's voice sounded shrill with Megatron's grip bearing down on his vocal processor so hard.

"Then quit acting like you know more than someone twice your age and follow my orders! We Decepticons may pride ourselves on treachery, but I will not tolerate being questioned or betrayed by my own petty officers. Especially those who pander to others instead of standing on their own strength."

Narrowed red optics glared at him as though Megatron could see through him to every wish and weakness he possessed. "O-of course not, Lord Megatron." The words were choked out, but the black hand on Starscream's throat had nothing to do with the strangled words. Pander? He had not been pandering to Megatron. All he had wanted was . . .

_I am not your replacement father, nor do I intend to be._

"Good." Megatron released him and smirked as he hit the floor again. "Pull yourself together, and get back to your post. And never fail me again!"

Starscream wanted to live up to his designation and scream at the retreating silver back: _I didn't want you to be my replacement father, you stupid slagger!_ But the words never came. An explosion on the port side rocked the ship. The moon had taken all the abuse it could handle. Starscream scrambled into his seat and flew through emergency protocols as Megatron yelled evacuation orders.

oOoOo

Starscream's optics onlined slowly, allowing his visual processors to bring the room into focus. The repair bay. Primus, how he hated repair bays. Awakening in one inevitably meant he'd just lost another round with Megatron.

"A dream," he murmured, disgusted at the glitch in his memory banks. Such a malfunction was rare, but when it did happen, it was always unpleasant. Or at least in Starscream's experience it was.

Hook leaned into his view. "Finally online are we?"

Starscream triggered his internal repair system, trying to evaluate the damage. "What did our lovely tyrant leave me with this time?"

The Constructicon sighed, his cultured voice strained. "More ripped circuits than I care to remember. I've been working on you nonstop for nearly fifteen joors. You'll barely have time to refuel before you have to begin your shift."

With a groan, Starscream managed to sit up and assess the damage. To his relief, his cockpit had been restored to perfect condition. "I thought our mighty Megatron had ordered you not to completely repair me."

Hook snorted as he put away his tools. "He had. But when the slagger hauled you in here, he rescinded the order and commanded that I repair everything."

Starscream's wings twitched in shock. "Megatron brought me here himself?"

The smirk on Hook's face was disconcerting. "Oh, yes. He dragged you in here and pouted and raged like some sparkling who'd broken his favorite toy."

Failing to bring up such a mental image, Starscream shook his head. "If you say so. I guess this means he's cooked up some plot that requires all the Seekers." He pushed himself off the repair booth and headed for the door.

"Perhaps," came the lilting reply.

Starscream halted in the doorway and glanced at Hook. "Perhaps? What other reason could the old Slag Maker have?"

Hook merely snickered. "Oh, who is to say what passes through the processor of Lord Megatron?"

"True enough." Wary but unsure why, Starscream trudged into the hallway and headed for the mess hall, dreading the barbs Rumble, Frenzy, and the Coneheads were likely to throw his way. Still, he took comfort in one thing left to him: his trine's care.

But even that affection could never fill the void left by Megatron's rejection and hate.


	4. Power

_A/N: The wing descriptions in this chapter were inspired by chapter 1 of Kyra Neko-Rei's "Wing Kinks."_

_Thanks to my trusty beta-reader, Lady Prime, who feels better and was able to resume betaing with this chapter._

_Also, thank you to all my lovely reviewers! I always appreciate your comments._

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_"Sing once again with me our strange duet;  
My power over you grows stronger yet."  
--"Phantom of the Opera," Andrew Lloyd Webber_

_**Chapter 4: Power**_

Soundwave was rather thoroughly convinced that he had the two most stubborn, thick-headed, dense commanders in the universe. Standing before the closed doors of Megatron's personal quarters, the communications officer watched his superior pace back and forth behind his desk, raging and cursing. Soundwave held in a sigh and pretended to be unaffected. He had chosen to wear a visor and face mask for a reason, after all. A telepath needed to keep his facial expression neutral at all times.

Then again, it was the fact that Soundwave was a telepath that caused Megatron to rant to him. He knew that Soundwave could sense his mood and read his thoughts regardless of whether he remained stoic or not. As a result, some millennia earlier Megatron had stopped bothering to keep his opinions to himself when they were alone together.

"And there they were," Megatron fumed, "pawing each others' wings right in the middle of the control room for all to see! But what enrages me-"

"Reminder: Seeker ritual not sexual," Soundwave said, daring to interrupt. He had reviewed the security footage once his shift started and knew perfectly well what had angered Megatron.

Not pausing in his pacing, Megatron glared at him, optics narrowed into crimson slits. "That is not the point."

Soundwave swallowed a second sigh, grateful once again that his expression was hidden. It was very much the point, and he was tired of watching the two dance around each other. "Suggestion: teach Starscream his lesson by taking over the ritual yourself."

Megatron halted and stared at Soundwave with a shock that crashed through the telepath in waves. "What did you say?"

Gathering his courage, Soundwave decided the time for subtlety was long past. He'd watched this ridiculous charade for two million stellar cycles, not counting the four million they'd lain unconscious on the _Ark's_ floor. Normally, his patience was literally endless, but he'd been sensing strange moods and thoughts from the unstable Seeker, and he suspected time was running out. "Observation: Starscream twitched his wings at you in a suggestive way, as though daring you to take part in the Seeker ritual. Suggestion: show Starscream you can take that role any time you wish."

Megatron gripped the back of his desk chair, squeezing his fingers until the metal screeched in protest. Soundwave could sense his leader's shock giving away to anger at his forwardness, and for a moment he worried for his continued existence. Then, to the telepath's relief, intrigue swirled through Megatron's processor, followed by satisfaction.

Finally, his crimson optics brightened. "Good, Soundwave, good. That may just work."

Soundwave steeled himself for the inevitable onslaught, counted three astroseconds, and inhaled silently and deeply through his intakes as Megatron's lust crashed through the room. He'd never seen a mech so much in denial of his own feelings, but then again, his leader thought things like caring would weaken him or make him too much like an Autobot. Soundwave held no such beliefs. He was physically affectionate with his cassettes as long as others weren't around, although he would occasionally pet Ravage in public if he thought no one was looking. He had a symbiotic relationship with his creations, and he knew perfectly well that he had to keep those bonds strong.

As for Megatron and Starscream, in Soundwave's opinion, the entire Decepticon cause would benefit if they would quit pretending and just interface the slag out of each other.

Megatron was fingering his chin now, chuckling in his I-will-rule-the-universe way. One didn't have to be a telepath to know what images were flying through his processor. "I'll keep him on third shift," he finally said, "lest the brat think he got off too easily."

Soundwave wondered if Megatron had forgotten the fistful of wires he'd ripped out of Starscream's chest. "Indeed, Lord Megatron."

"Still, order Skywarp and Thundercracker to keep their Seeker bonding rituals private," Megatron snarled, dropping his hand back to his chair.

"As you wish, Lord Megatron." Soundwave bowed his head and exited the room. Unsurprisingly, the two Seekers in question were hovering at the end of the hallway.

"Well?" Skywarp asked as the three entered the turbolift. "Does he still want to kill us?"

"Order: No more bonding in public," Soundwave replied.

Skywarp snorted. "You mean 'no more bonding in public and no more bonding with Starscream, period.' The slagger has his wires all tied in knots because we touched his prized possession, right?"

Soundwave suspected that there was no one on base who didn't know the truth of the matter except Megatron and Starscream themselves. "Comment: redundant. Favoritism: obvious."

"That's an understatement," Thundercracker said. "Anyone else would be dead for committing even one-tenth of the acts of disobedience Starscream has."

Skywarp scratched his helmet, apparently genuinely puzzled. "It's still a great mystery. Is a good interface really worth all this suffering and antagonism?"

"Charade: beneficial." Soundwave waited as the lift's doors opened, then stepped into the hallway leading to the mess hall. With a quick survey, he determined no one would overhear them. "Every time Megatron fights and defeats one of us, he affirms his role as leader. Starscream: best example because he's second-in-command."

The Seekers fell into step with him as he headed for the mess hall, and Skywarp shuddered. "Yeah, but what does 'Screamer get out of it?"

"Training," Soundwave replied. Granted, the telepath thought he would make a far better leader than Starscream should Megatron be killed, but he couldn't deny that Megatron had instilled every one of his traits in the Seeker: ambition, hate, treachery, sneakiness, cynicism, cold-heartedness, and outright megalomania. Megatron might as well have cloned himself, except Starscream lacked his bravery and mental stability. Then again, Megatron and Starscream both called for retreat equally often . . .

"Training?" Thundercracker echoed. "You mean that Megatron actually _wants_ Starscream to take command if he dies?"

Soundwave halted a meter from the mess hall doorway. Raucous laughter drifted into the hall, and the telepath wondered if Rumble and Frenzy had created another mock "movie" of Megatron and Starscream interfacing. They loved producing the short clips and filling them with very uncharacteristic and often hysterical declarations of love and other such sap. Frenzy even prided himself on doing a good impression of Starscream's scratchy voice. "Supposition: invalid. Megatron intends to never die."

Thundercracker groaned. "Well, I suppose you're right."

"So what does Megatron want?" Skywarp asked. "I mean, other than to blow Starscream's circuits with the best overload ever."

Soundwave considered the question more seriously than he normally would, given that Skywarp was the one asking. Megatron's root programming as a gladiator left him with twisted logic and missing emotional programming, but Soundwave knew what it was that he sensed. The others would never believe him, however, and there was a secondary answer. "Conquest," he replied, then stepped into the mess hall without further comment.

oOoOo

Megatron stood in the shadows, leaning against the wall and blending into the hallway as best he could. The first shift was winding up its rowdiness in the mess hall and turning in for recharge, and the second shift mechs were ambling toward the mess hall themselves, no doubt excited at the thought of trading gossip over energon. As a result, the control room was empty save Starscream, who had been released for active duty less than a joor earlier. The rest of the third shift was assigned elsewhere: maintenance, patrol, or on missions. This left Megatron to stare, unobserved, at Starscream's sleek form.

Once every century or so, Megatron would allow himself to consider how their lives would have been different if Starscream had never begun questioning his orders. Once every century or so, Megatron wondered if Starscream's hate stemmed from something other than his overblown pride and ambition.

Apparently unaware of his audience, Starscream stretched his wings, no doubt easing any stiffness left from his repairs. He extended them backward, straining faintly and causing the wings to tremble, then slowly arched them forward until they brushed the computer console. After a klik, he returned them to their standard position and shook them faintly, causing the dim overhead light to shimmer over the silver metal.

Megatron stared, unwillingly entranced, and suspected Soundwave had some sort of plan knocking around in his processor. Now that he was calm, he realized he was inexplicably _jealous_ of the Seekers' bonding ritual. He found the fact mystifying, and yet only the previous night he'd recalled the first time he'd seen Starscream and the way the starlight had raced across his sleek tetra wings. For whatever reason, Megatron was not above one of the most typical preferences among Cybertronians: the desire for one's lover to have wings. Granted, he'd recruited the Seekers for air power, but every femme he'd interfaced with always had possessed either wings or winglets.

Starscream sighed and jabbed a button on his console, switching camera angles in the mess hall. To Megatron, the air commander seemed unusually quiet and sullen. Typically, Starscream was all venom and scathing words. Today, however, even his curse had lacked any rage. It was as though the Seeker had sunk into numb apathy.

"That's not like you," Megatron murmured to himself.

Starscream glanced slowly at the doorway, apparently overhearing the words in the relative silence. No look of terror washed over his face; his optics neither dimmed nor brightened with emotion of any kind. Of course, long gone were the smiles with which the young Seeker used to grace him when he entered the room thanks to simple 'hero-worship.' Or at least Megatron assumed it had been hero-worship.

Starscream flexed his wings backwards again, drawing another tremor from them, then let them settle back in place. "Come to finish the job?" he asked, his tone bored. Flat. "Or did you have me repaired because you've dreamt up some mission for the Seekers?"

Megatron's newest plan did involve the Seekers, but he could have relied solely on the Coneheads. Unable to explain his own change of spark, he simply shrugged and entered the room. "Yes, there's a mission in two orns that you'll be needed for." He sneered. "I must have my top traitor in best form."

Starscream stared at him without expression, as though he were doing his best to impersonate Soundwave, then glanced toward the control room window. A school of fish darted past the glass. "Of course."

The apathy unsettled Megatron. "Where's your fiery spirit, Starscream? Do you plan to usurp my throne with such a lack of passion? Or have you finally learned to hold your tongue?"

Starscream continued to stare into the ocean's blackness. "I still hate you," he intoned. "That is what you wanted, yes? A warrior who stood on his own strength-_Decepticon_ strength, filled with hate, cunning, and treachery?"

Flat, flat, flat. Megatron thought his SIC's voice sounded like a library archival computer. "I wanted you to follow my orders, not shoot me in the back," he said, retaining his calm for once, matching his factual tone to Starscream's apathy.

Starscream turned his gaze upon the monitors. "You said I had a scientist's gaze and knowledge, but a warrior's heart and training." There, at last, was a trace of anger. "You accepted my warrior's training as long as I blindly obeyed your orders, but you ignored and even scoffed at my scientific knowledge. I don't suppose you remember the disaster at Delta Alpha Sigma, when you nearly put me through the bulkhead for telling the truth." He turned his stare upon Megatron, but his anger had apparently already died, leaving only a dull red sheen to his optics. "If you don't want truth, doesn't that mean you want lies?"

Megatron frowned, stung by the embarrassment of that mission's failure. He clenched his fist, ready to punish Starscream for his insolence yet again, only to pause and remember Soundwave's earlier advice. Soundwave rarely commented on personal matters or interrupted Megatron when he spoke. Had his behavior been the result of some thought or emotion in Starscream? What was the telepath sensing from the Seeker?

Suddenly unsure of his footing given Starscream's odd mood, Megatron reverted to Soundwave's plan. "What is this, Starscream? Some version of a Seeker tantrum? Are you pouting because I interrupted your bonding time with your trine?"

Starscream's wings twitched faintly, as though the memory of his trine's touches triggered a reaction. "What? And miss all your resulting threats and violence?" A trace of his usual sarcasm bled into his tone. "Even interrupted, the ritual provoked quite a show, don't you think, _mighty_ Megatron?"

Caught between a smirk and a scowl, Megatron admitted to himself that Starscream's acidic words were somewhat of a relief. This was a game he was used to playing. "So that's it, is it? We're pouting?" He grinned, snickering at his own plan, and his fingers nearly itched with desire. Soundwave did tend to generate solid ideas. He stepped up to Starscream's chair, leaning over him with a predatory smile.

His SIC glared at him warily, then sighed, his wings slumping. The hollow look of apathy returned. "I'm not pouting, but even if I were, you wouldn't understand since you're not a Seeker."

Megatron felt a disconcerting level of satisfaction in his plan. "Then enlighten me, if you are so knowledgeable or wise. What does it mean?" He reached out both hands, running them the length of Starscream's wings. The metal was smooth and cool under his palms, flawless and enticing. Until that moment, Megatron had not realized how much he wanted to touch these particular wings.

Starscream gasped and tried to jerk free, but Megatron held on, running his fingers down the wing seams. The Seeker arched his back with a strangled sound.

"W-what are you doing?" Starscream asked, his voice so low it was almost lost as his coolant system whirled on.

The thrill that swept through Megatron's circuits caught him off-guard. Despite his obsession with wings, he had never imagined he'd have such a strong reaction to _Starscream's_ wings. "Reminding you who has the real power here," he replied, his voice caught somewhere between a threat and a purr. "Now tell me, Seeker. What does this ritual mean to you?" He rubbed his fingers in circles across the length of the now-quivering appendages.

His entire body trembling, Starscream brutally gripped the console before him. "N-nothing you'd like," he managed to spit out. "It reinforces-" He gasped again as Megatron gently caressed the edges of each wing.

Megatron started to smirk at him, but he realized the smirk felt closer to a smile. A very _pleased_ smile. "It reinforces . . .?" he prompted, loving the feel of the wings quivering under his hands.

Starscream seemed to gather his senses and shot him a hate-filled glare. "It reinforces care and brotherhood, and it demonstrates a willingness to protect the other!"

Taken aback by the words, Megatron regrouped and leaned into Starscream's face, their noses mere centimeters apart. "Is that so?" He splayed his fingers across the expanse of both wings, caressing outward slowly and drawing a peculiar, strangled sound from the Seeker. "Then why are you reacting so strongly to my doing it?"

The moment hung suspended between them. Megatron realized with utter shock that he wanted to _kiss_ the slagging traitor, but he was distracted from his own horror when he noticed that Starscream's energy field wavered wildly in a show of blatant desire. _What?_ he thought, taken aback once again. _He is actually attracted to me?_

Starscream grew unnaturally still, a ripple of tenseness radiating through his body as his optics glowed brightly. Then suddenly he was a flurry of movement. "Don't touch me!" he shrieked, bolting from his chair and away from Megatron's hands. He ran to the doorway, glancing back only for an astrosecond. "It's a Seeker ritual, and you're no Seeker!" His voice rose in pitch with each word, and he transformed into his alt mode and kicked in his thrusters, streaking away.

Megatron stared after the retreating form, for once not even trying to stop his escape. He was too stunned by both his own feelings and Starscream's reaction to attempt following.

Lust? Desire? Attraction? Surely he had gone insane. Maybe they both had.

Yet in his processor, Megatron saw again the starlight on Starscream's wings at his graduation ceremony and later the unadulterated smiles with which he had greeted him. A naïve fool to be used . . . or someone genuinely intriguing. Megatron had been irritated with the idea that Starscream wanted him as a replacement father, as someone to give him the affection and acknowledgement his father had not.

But he had never stopped to ask himself _why_ it irritated him.

No, he had simply reigned in Starscream's behavior and set about remolding him into a perfect officer, except that had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

Megatron paused, resting his hands on the abandoned chair. He had always assumed Starscream's ego had multiplied because of some basic personality flaw, but he had mentioned a specific day-the disaster at Delta Alpha Sigma. Megatron searched his memory banks, trying to recall the exact conversation he'd had with Starscream and to figure out what importance it held for him. Was Starscream holding a specific grudge that tipped the scales on his treachery?

Distracted with these thoughts, Megatron absently summoned a replacement for Starscream's post and then headed to his quarters.


	5. Blame

_Thanks to all you guys who've reviewed or faved! Love ya'll._

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_"Nobody gives a damn about me or anybody else . . .  
And still you call me co-dependent;  
Somehow you lay the blame on me."  
--"Medication," Garbage_

_**Chapter 5: Blame**_

Transformed into root mode, Starscream raced through hallways, escaping deep into the _Nemesis'_ recesses, using data files of maps and design specs to locate a rarely used storage room. With shaking fingers, he keyed the door code, then locked himself inside. The silence of the cargo bay tormented him, daunting him as his optics registered the towering ceiling, which was dimly lit by what few undamaged light panels remained. However, Starscream broke the silence himself by gulping air through his intakes, as though he were panting. Ghostly fingers seemed to caress his wings, reminding him of black hands which had been almost gentle and teasing.

Shuddering with emotions he couldn't name, Starscream glanced at the uneven pile of boxes lining the walls and floor. Finding a suitable crate, he sat and pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees. His wings still trembled as they slumped around his shoulders. Of all the things the he could have imagined passing between Megatron and him, the bonding ritual had never been among them.

"What the slag!" Starscream hissed, leaning his head on his knees. Why had that fragger's touch aroused him so much? Sure, he could remember a time when he'd admired Megatron, respected him, wanted to be close to him . . .

"Close?" he asked himself. He remembered that long ago he'd wished to win Megatron's approval, draw his attention, be in his presence. But why? Had the tyrant been correct? Had all he wanted from Megatron been replacement father, someone who valued him more than Stardust had? That didn't make sense to him when his wings still tingled from Megatron's touch, causing his spark to pulse and burn.

Then, from a buried corner of his processor, came a long-forgotten daydream. Prior to the Delta Alpha Sigma disaster, Starscream had once imagined what it would feel like to kiss Megatron, to touch and to be touched, to -

"Impossible!" Starscream raised his head only to press his hands against temples. He doubted any working security cameras existed in the room, but he found he didn't care. His horror was so overwhelming he let himself yell at the walls. "I rid myself of that stupid dream millions of stellar cycles ago. I killed it! I buried it with all the other glitched thoughts I used to have about that slagger! I don't care _how_ he touched me, this just doesn't make sense."

Starscream rested his head on his knees again. No, it was worse than nonsensical. It was insane. Megatron had rained nothing but hate and disdain upon him, humiliating him:

_"Stop being a coward!"_

_"You've failed me yet again."_

_"You're either lying or you're stupid!"_

_"I am not your replacement father, nor do I intend to be."_

The litany of insults and curses rang in Starscream's processor, generating static in his audios and blurring his optics. Megatron never missed an opportunity to degrade him. _But I thought I was special! The way he used to look at me, the way he used to talk to me . . . I thought I was special._ A wave of self-hate seared Starscream's circuits at the thought. _Fool, fool, fool! I was never anything more to him than a means to recruit other Seekers or another warrior to exploit. He never wanted to hear a word I said._

"The Decepticon way," Starscream said, raising his head and sneering at the floor.

Pride. Power. Ambition. Starscream wondered if he had not become the essence of a Deception, a bastard child of Megatron's own obsessive hubris.

Or had he?

Starscream sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, distracted by the ache blooming through his body. All the training and missions he'd undergone, all the hate and punishment, all the insults and humiliation . . . had it not all brought him to this very place of treachery? What else had Megatron left him to hope for except finally surpassing the fragger once he was dead? What else could he want?

A truly treasonous voice seemed to whisper in Starscream's mind: _Love. Acknowledgement. Companionship._ He had disdained such things since the war began, attributing such desires and needs to the weak Autobots. But the scientist in him - the mech who had lived and laughed before the war, the one who had cruised the skies with Skyfire and searched for joors to find him when he'd been lost on a primitive world - was beginning to wonder if the Autobots were really so stupid on that count. Some buried part of him, some shred, some . . .

Starscream shivered, his wings quivering again with the remembered caresses. Megatron sexy? Megatron _gentle_?

No, no. It could never be that. The slagger had said it himself: all he was doing was reminding him who had the real power.

Power, pain, and possession.

"I am not a toy," Starscream whispered to the absent tyrant, reaching out with his knuckles and brushing them across his wings. He shivered at his own touch, the metal still sensitized from Megatron's attentions. "I seek to destroy you because you destroyed me. I will prove you wrong by becoming what you are: the leader."

_But I could have followed him,_ Starscream's treacherous mind whispered. He couldn't seem to reign in his own thoughts. _I would have if only he had respected me and treated me like an equal. He did not._

Indeed, Megatron had given him no respect of any kind. And from the tyrant's betrayal and sarcastic words, Starscream knew that he blamed him for all their fights and arguments. In Megatron's mind, Starscream was always wrong, the cowardly traitor. However, Starscream no longer cared how pathetic he looked or what others said behind his back. He would do anything to live because he couldn't have revenge if he died.

And Megatron, he was sure, didn't care either in any way, fashion, or form. All he wanted or needed was a punching bag to make himself look powerful and scare the others into submission.

Raising his head, Starscream glared at the storage room. Grey steel crates seemed to box him in, a strange circular prison of rectangular shapes, all numbered but forgotten. The pale yellow ceiling lights flickered, causing the shadows looming in the corners to shift and move like animals. Then, without warning, the ventilation system kicked on, piercing the silence with its whirl and brushing an air current across his wings. Starscream shivered one last time, his wing tips burning with the memory of Megatron's touches.

_"Then why are you reacting so strongly to my doing it?"_

Starscream jumped to his feet and punched the wall, denting it. All his plans of revenge swirled in his head, moving from organization to chaos in an instant. "I didn't want you to be my replacement father, you slagger!" he shrieked.

He had not said the words all those centuries before, but he could now. Yet although he could say them, he didn't know what they meant to him. He knew what he didn't want, and he'd assumed for vorns he wanted revenge, acknowledgement, and vindication. He'd been sure of his path, of his fate, of what he had to do to punish Megatron. Now, though, strange feelings raced through his tanks, seeming to ignite electric bolts in the half-processed energon.

"What is wrong with me?" Starscream moaned, sinking to the floor and curling in on himself again. In his mind, his thoughts seemed to spiral inward like a massive black hole that sucked in thousands of stars, only to mysteriously implode, spewing star matter over the universe. His thoughts seemed to scatter just as violently, leaving him exhausted and confused.

Still curled into a miserable ball, he fell into recharge, not caring if Megatron punished him for missing his shift.

oOoOo

Megatron sat at his desk, running an electro pen across a blank datapad in random circles. Being the leader, his private cabin was on the top floor and sported a window bank, allowing him to gaze across space. Or, rather, the windows would have shown him space if the ship hadn't been converted to an underwater base. Now the panes allowed the light filtering through the ocean to ripple across the room, casting Soundwave's face into shifting shadows.

"Reporting as ordered," Soundwave intoned, assuming his customary position before Megatron's desk. He didn't seem the least ruffled to have been summoned out of recharge.

Megatron stared at the telepath long moments, not even watching the lazy circles the pen drew. For countless breams, Megatron had reviewed his memory banks, pulling up conversation after conversation with Starscream, including the one from Delta Alpha Sigma. "Tell me." His tone was pure business, and he tried to assure himself that his interest was, also. Unfortunately, his fingertips still pleasantly burned with the memory of touching Starscream's wings. "Tell me what feelings or thoughts you have been picking up from Starscream. He's behaving oddly." He stated the observation factually, as any leader should, and ignored how uncomfortable the sudden change in his SIC had made him. He could save that mystery for later.

Soundwave clasped his hands behind his back, his shoulders shifting into the posture Megatron had mentally dubbed 'lecture mode.' "Starscream: unstable. Feelings: lacking."

"Lacking?" Megatron prompted, frowning. His sense of unease grew. Odd and frustrating though it was, his unstable relationship with the Seeker had predictability to it, like a script they played, each with his role. Roles Megatron now realized he'd taken for granted.

Soundwave elaborated. "Lacking: he has apathy or numbness as a result of excessive pain and hatred. Violent outcome: assured."

Megatron leaned back in his chair, dropping the electro pen and letting it roll to the desk's edge. "Apathy? Why? Our most recent fight was not different from any of the thousand previous ones. Granted, I've never been able to determine why he's so foolish as to not learn his lesson, but I hardly see the significance of this one event."

Soundwave hesitated, radiating an uncharacteristic discomfort. "Lord Megatron . . ."

Already having several theories racing through his processor, Megatron had no patience for delays. "Tell me, Soundwave."

"Jealousy." The answer was abrupt. "Starscream: most unstable when you threaten to replace him."

The latter part of the answer didn't surprise Megatron, but he mulled over the choice of the word "jealousy." He considered his own frightening desire to kiss the Seeker, and Starscream's blatant arousal at his touches. "Jealousy?" He smirked, trying to pull all the strands together in his mind. Determined to solve the mystery, he suddenly changed tactics. "Do you remember how Starscream behaved when you first met him?"

"Affirmative." A trace of curiosity colored Soundwave's voice.

Megatron stared at the navy and grey mech, his gaze focused on the neutral expression created by the visor and face mask. For once, he wondered what emotions the telepath hid. "As I recall, our young little Seeker followed me around obsessively, constantly trying to win my approval and wanting attention from me. It was a rather sickening display of pathetic need."

Another pause. "Attention: desired," Soundwave replied noncommittally.

Narrowing his eyes, Megatron continued. "Do you remember _why?_"

No answer.

Megatron stroked his chin absently, finding Starscream's earlier words ringing in his processor: _"If you don't want truth, doesn't that mean you want lies?"_ Clearly, Soundwave suspected he didn't want to hear the answer. He decided to lay more bait. "Starscream's constant need for attention and affirmation was a weakness I had to break him of, and yet each step I took to train him to be our next air commander resulted in more than simple independence and ambition. He became hateful, traitorous, and, as you put it, unstable."

"Yes."

A monosyllabic reply. Megatron narrowed his eyes, losing patience quickly. "But it was all because he wished for me to replace his father, correct? Is that not what you sensed from him? He couldn't have his creator's approval, so he wanted mine." As he spoke, he began to bite off his words, enunciating them with sharp rage. "Like some sniffling Autobot, he wanted me to be his father figure!" He stopped, realizing too late his anger didn't stem from disdain. He was personally offended. _What is wrong with me?_ he interrogated himself silently. _I hate weakness, but it's almost as though . . ._ His logic failed him again, leaving him to untangle the twisted threads of betrayal and violence.

Soundwave remained silent for several long kliks. "Assumption: . . . incorrect."

Megatron's systems seemed to freeze, as though liquid nitrogen infused him. "What?"

"Approval: needed. Starscream hated his creator for not recognizing his scientific achievements." Soundwave's tone, although factual, betrayed his lingering apprehension. "He followed you because he believed that you valued his past experience." A pause. "Attention wanted: not creator-sparkling in nature. Lack of approval produced instability. Lack of attention produced hate."

Megatron clenched his fists and slammed them on his desk. "Then what the slag does that coward want!"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, however, than Megatron remembered something else Starscream had said: _"You accepted my warrior's training as long as I blindly obeyed your orders, but you ignored and even scoffed at my scientific knowledge."_ Soundwave was correct. Megatron snorted. "Oh, so he wants me to tell him that he's a genius!" He scoffed, flinging up one hand in a dismissive gesture. "I'll tell the fool no such thing. He was the one who decided to question my orders. If I want scientific input, I'll ask for it!"

Soundwave watched him, his expression, or lack thereof, impassive as always. "Query: Did you show Starscream you could co-opt the Seeker ritual?"

Caught off-guard by the question, Megatron's memory banks immediately presented him with the feel of smooth wings, the sight of faint shivers, and the sound of Starscream's intakes hitching. He found his fingertips burning again, itching almost, and he remembered not only his wish to kiss the Seeker, but also his long ago desire to lure Starscream to his berth. "Nonsense!" Megatron told himself. Millions of stellar cycles ago, on the day he'd watched his newest Seeker recruits training, he had dismissed the thought of seducing Starscream within nanokliks. Why should it matter now?

"Nonsense?" Soundwave asked.

Megatron frowned, realizing his inner monologue had slipped out. "Yes, I proved it to him," he said, pretending his mistake had not occurred, although he suspected the telepath had listened to his thoughts anyway. "Why do you ask?"

"Questions: rhetorical." Despite the words, Soundwave's tone didn't contain even a trace of insubordination. "I trust you gathered the information you needed."

Staring at his third in command, Megatron recognized that the telepath had apparently felt the lust from across the base. The slagger knew what emotions Megatron had raised in himself and the Seeker during their little encounter. "Devious, aren't we?" For a moment, he wasn't sure whether to admire Soundwave's plan or punish his insolence. "Just how long has our illustrious air commander entertained such desires for me?"

A longer pause. Soundwave unclasped his hands from behind his back and held them up in a gesture bordering on exasperation. "Always."

Megatron couldn't seem to locate his vocal programming. In fact, he felt as though his vocal processor had momentarily vanished. With some effort, he brought his shock under control. "You're dismissed."

Soundwave bowed and left, and Megatron stared at the door.

"Always?" he asked the silent room. Standing, he walked to the window bank and gazed into the ocean, which was tinted black by the night. His optics' infrared vision revealed a hammerhead shark arching in a graceful dive over the ship's hull, and Megatron's attention flickered to its exposed belly. A meter away, a mass of fish panicked and darted, streaming past each other as the predator neared, and yet Megatron could have shot the beast through the stomach, killing the stalker with the same ease it would kill the fish.

But even with its belly facing him, the shark was no less a predator. No, Megatron mused, it was no less a predator to all the sea creatures who shrank in comparison to its deadly size and elegance.

"Coward," Megatron hissed, even though the subject of his wrath was nowhere to be found. "Lying, traitorous, foolish, impatient megalomaniac!"

_Ruler of the skies. Epitome of Decepticon ambition and cruelty. And for better or worse, the only mech in the army with enough gumption to -_

"No one can ever equal me," Megatron informed the passing shark. Not that any creature in the universe would think otherwise. "No one."

And yet, with his ready smirk, his endless schemes, and his taunting wings, Starscream had never backed down longer than it took to make sure he could live to plot another orn. Fear. But not enough fear to . . .

"To bore me," Megatron whispered to himself, refocusing his gaze to see his reflection in the glass.

He smirked. He laughed. He felt a plan forming.

"What a dance we have," he said to the absent Seeker, turning back to his desk. He stopped abruptly when he saw his datapad. Among the aimless circles he'd drawn there, a shape had formed: an angular sweep like a wing.

Megatron smirked at himself. "Indeed, it is quite the dance we have here. I had always assumed you were a naïve fool to be manipulated, but I suppose you are intriguing after all." He traced the 'wing' with one finger, wanting to lie to himself but unable to do so. Although he rarely told others the truth, once he found a self-truth, he always forced himself to face it. After all, Megatron could use the knowledge, however uncomfortable it was, to secure his next victory, and winning was the only thing that truly mattered.

Amused by the revelations, Megatron snorted. "I suppose I now know why I never killed him." He glanced back at the hammerhead shark as it streaked into the helpless fish, snapping its jaws, slaughtering all in its path. Yes, it was no less the predator for having shown the Decepticon leader its belly. No, no less a killer for that. Megatron smiled, admiring its sleek deadliness and lethal beauty.

Perhaps there were some creatures in the universe he shouldn't be so quick to disdain, even if no one could ever equal him.


	6. One Step Closer

_"I cannot take this anymore . . . All these words they make no sense . . .  
I'm one step closer to the edge, and I'm about to break."  
--"One Step Closer," Linkin Park_

_**Chapter 6: One Step Closer**_

Megatron stood, arms folded, and watched the screen from his position behind Soundwave's shoulder. "Well? Surely he's not that hard to locate."

At nearby consoles, the other first-shift mechs muttered nervously, trading looks. They knew Starscream had gone AWOL, and Megatron was aware they assumed he'd beat him to a pulp - again. Keeping his voice gruff with anger, he did nothing to dissuade their assumption.

"Starscream: found," Soundwave replied, pointing to a blinking red dot on the monitor. "Position: storage room 5-H."

Megatron snorted. Starscream had chosen the most out-of-the-way place possible. "I see." And he did see: the systems readout on the Seeker showed he was dangerously low on energy. "I will return." He stomped toward the door, sure to leave the others fearing his temper, and threw a final order to his third-in-command. "Don't interrupt me unless the Constructicons' mission runs afoul!"

Ignoring Soundwave's typical reply - "As you command, Lord Megatron" - Megatron stopped by his quarters, subspaced an energon cube, and then rode the turbolift to the Nemesis' lowest deck. As he expected, he found the storage room's door locked, but he overrode it with a command code and strolled in, adopting a persona of nonchalance rather than anger. Granted, Starscream tried his patience to the fullest on a regular basis, but he'd still always had a grudging respect for Starscream's scheming mind and brutal tactics. More to the point, he knew anger wouldn't serve him in this situation.

"So this is where the resident coward has fled to," Megatron remarked, glancing at the stacked crates and then pinning his gaze upon Starscream, who sat on the floor.

The Seeker looked up with dimmed, dull optics. "Convenient, no? You can bury my parts in here, and no one will find them."

Megatron halted at the flat voice, so devoid of its usual sarcasm and hate. A chilling factualness permeated his tone and air, while obvious apathy left his wings slumped at his shoulders. Where was the predator? The cruel killer? The merciless maniac who spared no one and nothing in his quest for ambition? "You're glitched!" He felt his temper slip and tried for once to hold it in check. "If that's the best retort you can give me, you need to refuel before we continue this conversation." He pulled the energon cube from subspace and knelt by the listless Seeker, holding it out.

Starscream stared at it. "I would've thought you'd have preferred blasting my head off to poisoning me." Again, the words sounded like a scientific observation.

"It's not poisonous, you fool." Megatron shoved the cube into Starscream's hands. "Drink it! The Constructicons are on a mission at a Japanese power plant that employs experimental technology. All my Seekers must be functional in case of an Autobot attack, and you specifically get to work double shifts due to your little stunt."

Starscream stared at him blankly, then finally nodded, apparently accepting the explanation. Without further protest, he drank the energon. Megatron watched, frowning at his uncharacteristic behavior. This would not do. He needed at least one decent round of insult-trading per shift to break the monotony. Perhaps he should cut to the chase, he mused, and simply interface Starscream senseless. No one could remain emotionless under his touch, he knew. Besides, now that he was aware of the Seeker's feelings, Megatron had spent the last two joors daydreaming of seducing a reluctant Starscream, who he had imagined would deny his lustful feelings right until the moment he collapsed into helpless moans. The fantasy had proven rather potent. Megatron smirked at his prey.

However, setting the empty cube aside, Starscream ignored his smirk and simply resumed his blank stare, which he aimed at the floor. "Now that I've refueled, I suppose you mean to send out my trine as guards."

"No. Dirge, Thrust, and Ramjet have already been deployed." Megatron invaded the Seeker's personal space, sitting facing him. How should he proceed? Would it be more effective to mention his awareness of Starscream's buried desires first, or should he simply begin caressing his wings again? What Megatron decided he wanted, he _wanted_, and although he could be patient in order to achieve his goals, he didn't employ games to get others into his berth.

When Megatron's knee brushed his thigh, Starscream finally frowned and looked up, his optics narrowing in obvious suspicion. "What are you doing?"

Finally, a hint of worry in the voice. Megatron swallowed a laugh. "Are you really in that much denial, Starscream?" He reached out, tracing a wing with one finger and imagining how luscious it would be to seduce the proud, arrogant Seeker.

Starscream stiffened, then shot into the air so quickly Megatron didn't have time to react. He stopped and hovered once he was out of reach. "_What the slag are you doing!_" This time he managed to retrieve his usual screech.

Standing, Megatron considered his SIC, having been suddenly reminded that Starscream was the fastest Decepticon on Earth and perhaps in the universe. The Seeker, who had aimed his null rays at Megatron's head, now floated in the air six meters above him. Fighting off his impulse to simply shoot Starscream down, Megatron crossed his arms and scoffed. "Don't be such a coward. You've been sitting in a stupor for days. It's hardly my fault if I had to take drastic measures to obtain a reaction from you."

Starscream lowered himself to the floor, keeping his null rays trained on him. "Really? Because your preferred method of getting my attention is usually punching me or crushing my neck."

Noticing that the paranoid Seeker had put three meters and a crate between them, Megatron snickered. "True. But I've never seen you in this particular kind of stupor. I decided that _special_ means might be necessary." He grinned, letting the innuendo hang between them.

Starscream froze as surely as though he'd entered stasis lock standing up. However, after a klik, his customary sneer curled his lip. "What makes you think I want your rough hands pawing me? I can't imagine you know anything sophisticated about the act. You probably think all it takes is a bit of pounding." He laughed, tone full of contempt. "Then again, that probably is enough for you! Give them a pounding, hear them scream, get your overload, then toss them out of your quarters. Am I right?"

Taking the words as a challenge, Megatron merely smirked again. "As usual, you're a fool. I have endless vorns of experience triggering helpless cries of pleasure from winged lovers of all types." Even from the distance of three meters, he felt Starscream's energy field suddenly flare. "I am _intimately_ knowledgeable about the sensitive areas on Seeker's frames, specifically."

Starscream's sneer didn't falter, despite the detectable rise in his body temperature. "You always could coat your lies with gold, _mighty_ Megatron."

Megatron realized that Starscream's typical sarcasm brought him relief instead of frustration, and it made him smile. "Lies, you say?" He strode forward, closing the distance between them by one meter. "I shall show you otherwise, then."

A flash of sheer panic lit the Seeker's optics, and he backed away a step. "No, you won't!" The tell-tale whine of null-ray guns charging filled the room.

Holding in another laugh, Megatron merely grinned. With both Soundwave's revelation about Starscream's true feelings and the Seeker's own reaction to having his wing touched, he felt confident that he could bring Starscream around. "Are you really going to pretend that-"

Megatron's comm. link flared to life, distracting both mechs: "Soundwave to Megatron. Constructicons: under attack and requesting assistance."

"Acknowledged." Megatron cut the connection and stared at the tense Seeker, who still held his null rays ready. "Let's go. Assemble your trine immediately."

Megatron turned toward the door, half-expecting to be shot in the back, but the sound of hesitant footsteps followed him.

oOoOo

As the ocean gave away to green valleys, Megatron first heard, then saw, firefight in the distance. The beauty of the countryside, with its rice fields and cherry blossom trees, flew unnoticed beneath him as he headed for the nearest city and its power facility. Even at this distance, he could see the hulking, green and purple form of Devastator paired against the red and white Superion.

"Aerialbots," Starscream hissed, drawing Megatron's attention for the first time since they'd left the base.

He couldn't help noticing the sun streaking across Starscream's wings or the way that all the tension had drained from his body during the flight from the _Nemesis_. Air was his element, the sky his habitat, and when airborne he reached the height of his abilities. What was more, the sight of the Seeker's rivals seemed to evoke emotion from him.

"Devastator must be free to squash the other Autobots," Megatron said, stowing away his thoughts. "We must focus on separating Superion." He pointed at the Coneheads, who were under fire from the ground. "And the others are outnumbered."

Starscream didn't hesitate. "Thundercracker! Skywarp! Lay down cover fire."

"You're taking me with you," Megatron said before Starscream could kick in his thrusters.

The other Seekers sped away, but Starscream hung back while Megatron transformed. Starscream dipped and caught the gun by magnetically sealing it to the underside of his frame, then kicked in his afterburners, accelerating to Mach 2.8 with a thunderous _boom_ that made all the mechs in the area jump. Megatron's alt form shook from the pressure of the supersonic speed, but at the sensation, he understood the Seeker's joy as air raced across his plating. Then Starscream hurled them into a dive-bomb run, and Megatron opened fire along with Starscream upon Superion.

Starscream took the dive at nearly ninety degrees, racing toward the ground. Although Megatron continued to fire, he worried that Starscream had finally lost his remaining sanity and would crash them both into Superion. However, Starscream rolled at the last instant, swerving around the teetering form of the gestalt and then turning for a second run. Superion, though, had taken all the abuse he could handle and separated. As the gestalt broke into his component mechs, Silverbolt, Air Raid, Fireflight, Skydive, and Slingshot all took off, engaging the six Seekers who tormented them.

Satisfied with this development, Megatron disengaged from his SIC and transformed, landing on the ground near Soundwave, who was deploying his army of cassettes. Optimus Prime turned his attention to Megatron as Ravage attacked Bumblebee and Laserbeak and Buzzsaw homed in on Jazz.

"Devastator, kill them all!" Megatron ordered, aiming his fusion cannon at Optimus Prime's chest. The Autobot leader tucked himself into a forward roll as Megatron fired, dodging the shot, but Devastator headed in his direction with his earth-shaking stomping. Hound, Ironhide, Sunstreaker, and Sideswipe all turned their attention to Devastator, who rounded on them with a roar, leaving Megatron to face Optimus.

"Ever the warrior for the weak," he sneered, taking aim. "You're pathetic, Prime!"

The semi took cover behind a building, raining intermittent blaster shots upon Megatron. "By now you should know we'll never let you succeed in your plans."

Megatron stalked his prey, but he was unnaturally aware of the eleven jets roaring above his head. Apparently half the cure for Starscream's apathy was to let him engage in combat. "Don't be a fool, Prime." He aimed for a window, shooting straight through the building. A resounding crash told him his opponent had been knocked down. "My Constructicons have been prepared for this mission and secretly carrying it out for far longer than the last twenty joors."

A steady whine pierced the racket of the battlefield, and Megatron glanced up to see an injured Fireflight hurtling through the air toward the experimental power generators. "Slag!" He switched his aim, planning to knock the jet away from his new possession, but it was over in an instant. The red jet crashed into the sextet of towers that created the power array and quickly became entangled in the cables and bent metal. A surge of indigo energy struck outward from the crumpled towers like lightning bolts.

Within astroseconds, Starscream had landed at Megatron's side. "I remember the initial surveillance reports on this facility. We must withdrawal immediately before it goes critical, or we'll be blown into scrap metal."

Megatron narrowed his optics. "I'm aware of the danger. First, though, we must push the Autobots further back so the blast will kill them all."

"We don't have time!" Starscream's voice turned shrill with fear, and he grabbed his left arm. "And they'll kill themselves trying to rescue that idiot."

Enraged by the failure of the mission and his SIC's behavior, Megatron jerked free of Starscream's grasp and aimed his fusion cannon at his head. "Giving me orders again, are we?"

Starscream's optics dimmed to a pale, almost rust-colored red as all the panic and frustration drained from his features. "You never listened to a word I said."

Momentarily taken off-guard by both the attitude change and Starscream's use of past tense, Megatron hesitated.

Apparently taking advantage of the pause, Starscream opened his comm. link. "Seekers! Scramble."

From Megatron's memory bank came an unbidden image: millions of stellar cycles earlier, Starscream's cold, collected voice, raspy but not shrieking, ordering the Seeker graduates to transform at the War Academy. He had been all poise, like a war veteran, his attitude one of near-clinical interest. This same Starscream faced him now, his order given and his Seekers obeying without question.

"Kill me if you want to." Starscream's voice was too flat, too calm, to possibly be his, and yet it was. "I'll die either way." In a single, sleek movement, he transformed, firing his thrusters and streaking into the sky at an eighty degree angle.

"Decepticons! Retreat!" Megatron ordered, taking flight after his SIC. Soundwave and his creations were close behind him, and as Megatron gained altitude, he saw the indigo glow blooming from the mangled towers. An increasing number of electrical bolts blasted the buildings and ground, and the roar of an impending explosion filled the air.

For a single instant prior to the detonation, Megatron allowed himself to admit Starscream had been right. The words echoed in his processor: _"you ignored and even scoffed at my scientific knowledge."_ And then the entire planet shattered beneath him, hurling metallic scraps, concrete chunks, and dirt clumps into the sky as a sphere of indigo energy mushroomed from the facility.

"Slaggit!" Megatron braced himself as the shockwave crashed into him and his retreating forces, tossing them like dead leaves, and his only thought was that the Autobots had taken more damage than the Decepticons - hopefully a lethal amount.

Then all his systems were knocked offline, leaving his final sight that of the ground rushing toward his face.

oOoOo

"Thick-headed slagger."

Megatron heard the voice, but at first his processor couldn't identify it. Where was he? His forced his optics online and struggled to clear his mind. As he did, the raspy words immediately paired themselves with the dark grey face leaning over him. "Starscream."

"It's a good thing your armor is as thick as your head," the Seeker sneered. "Otherwise, you'd be awakening in the Pit, and I'd be the new leader."

Sarcasm. Arrogance. Hate. Megatron guessed his SIC had returned to normal. He stared past the head and wings blocking his view to the crimson-tinted sky. Sunset? How many joors had he been unconscious? "You were wrong," he said without thinking. He'd never let the brat have the last word. "You're not dead."

"Thanks to my superior speed, which you can't hope to ever rival," Starscream replied, the insults passing between them like well-oiled cogs, "although my self-repair systems have taken 4.2 joors to bring me to functional capacity."

Megatron forced himself to sit up, ignoring the sudden visual tilt caused by damage to his equilibrium stabilizers. With a glance, he noted that he and his SIC were alone on a ridge above a rice field, a forest at their backs. None of the other Decepticons were present. "And the others?"

"The other Seekers escaped without damage and are patrolling the area." Starscream sounded particularly smug at that news. "Devastator got blown to slag, so the Constructicons are repairing themselves. Soundwave is down on the other side of the valley, but Thundercracker reports that his injuries are minor. Apparently he's busy repairing the Cassetticons so he can get them either flight-ready or back in his chest."

"And you stayed here by me?" Megatron snickered, easing into their usual caustic banter. "I would have thought you'd have declared me deactivated and tried to assume leadership by now. In fact, I'm surprised you didn't try to finish me off."

Starscream's smirk bled from his face. "I should have." In an instant, his voice had fallen flat. "After you engaged in a ritual you didn't understand and then had the gall to make a pass at me, I should shoot you through the spark." Again, the words lacked their usual wrath.

Staring at the Seeker's oddly emotionless face, Megatron found himself both disturbed and curious. An impassive Starscream was unnatural and, to his surprise, unwelcome. But even apathy should not have spared him from his SIC's habitual bid for power. "Then why didn't you?"

"One reason." Crimson optics narrowed, shining brighter. "I want to know why. You are never so subtle." He snorted faintly. "Well, you're still not being subtle. But seduction is not in your repertoire of tactics. What are you after?"

Megatron laughed. With some adjustment, maybe his ploy would work after all. "I would have thought that was obvious." He reached out and, for the second time that orn, traced one wing with his finger.

Gasping, Starscream jerked away. "I realize that!" Now obviously enraged, he scooted further back, keeping himself just beyond Megatron's reach. "I mean _why_ are you doing it? You've never shown interest in me." He clenched his fists. "Slaggit, you've never shown _any_ kind of interest in me except as a pawn!"

For a moment, Megatron basked in the feel of Starscream's energy field fluctuating with desire, then held back a frown when the arousal was replaced with the Seeker's usual vitriol. "I've never seen you get so jealous before," he replied.

_"What?"_ Starscream jumped to his feet. "What could I possibly be jealous about?"

"Nightbird," Megatron explained, his tone casual, conversational. He stood as well, facing the infuriated Seeker. "Your reaction to her went beyond that of mere offense that she could take your position as second-in-command. Your rage and impulsive revenge hinted at something more." He grinned as Starscream backed further away, his terror evident in his wide optics. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Starscream's wings straightened and then folded backward in a sure sign of fury. Although he kept one fist clenched at his side, he raised the other and pointed a finger into Megatron's face. "You're glitched! Why would I desire, much less interface with, someone who holds nothing but contempt for every creature in the universe except himself?" His apathy seemed to have evaporated, causing his raspy vocalizer to rise into a shriek. "Even if you weren't so egotistical that you'd fail to bring your partner even the slightest shred of pleasure - and I'm sure you couldn't care less about their experience at your hands - you have specifically made it known that you find me to be nothing but a coward and a fool. I'd sooner interface with _Shockwave_ than submit myself to your pawing! How am I supposed to find pleasure at the touch of someone who hates and disdains me and would rather punch me than look at me?"

Snarling, Megatron stepped forward, indeed feeling the urge to hit the petulant Seeker. Yet at this sign of impending violence, Starscream didn't start apologizing or begging. All the rage drained from him instantly, and the sight caused all Megatron's angry retorts to vanish from his circuits.

Starscream's optics dimmed and a sad half-smile bent one corner of his lips. "If you wanted to seduce me, you should have done it the orn I met you, while I was still naïve and blind." A faint smirk followed those words, only to be swallowed by the void that had apparently opened in the Seeker's spark. Without further comment, he gracefully transformed and soared into the sky, leaving Megatron to stare after him, shocked by the honest admission.

After a few kliks of processing those words, he exhaled air through his intakes in a sigh. "I need a new plan." He liked difficult conquests, but according to Soundwave, Starscream was growing increasingly unstable, which seemed obvious from his bipolar behavior. More than that, however, something in the Seeker's apathy disconcerted him. It was uncomfortable, and he didn't like the uneasiness. He had to _fix_ it. He had to prove that he _could_ fix it. He had to . . . to . . .

Megatron sighed again, words escaping him. The very concept of what he was feeling also escaped him, and he couldn't stand unsolved puzzles.

"I will prevail," he muttered to himself, taking to sky and following the general direction of Starscream's retreat.

* * *

_Postscript: I would like to stop and thank all my reviewers for their kind words and encouragement, which keep me inspired to write no matter how exhausting or stressful my week has been: Jessie07, gon404, EnvysPetNeko2, Carmilla DeWinter, Kyra Neko Rei, Wol Lo, SuperMoose, Ameri, Baird Crevan, Shirox, Awed, Supernich, Misao-CG, An, Starscream Forever, JJK, Sustain, Megatron Prime, Arahsi, CuriousDreamWeaver, Kumogorokun690, Lady Prime, and R. Herring._


	7. Catching a Fall

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 6: Shirox, Baird Crevan, Ameri, Envys Pet Neko2, Supernich, Wol Lo, Sunnydsgirl, Fanviewer, Dancinglemur, Carmilla D, Supermoose, Jessie07, Razz2b, and StitchChic. You all really know how to keep a girl motivated!_

_Special thanks to Supernich, who gave me the necessary push to detail a certain scene. (smile) Your push was well-timed; it fit into this chapter perfectly._

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* * *

  
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_"Who's gonna to pick you up when you fall? . . .  
Who's gonna pay attention to your dreams?"  
--"Drive," The Cars_

_**Chapter 7: Catching a Fall**_

Entering the mess hall, Starscream sized up the inhabitants with clinical detachment, vaguely noting how their colorful paint jobs contrasted with the drab grey of the room. Soundwave, Rumble, and Frenzy sat conversing in the furthest corner; Scrapper, Thrust, and Dirge argued at the table nearest the door; Deadend sat sulking by himself; and Thundercracker lounged with Skywarp by the room's only window. Most of the first shift mechs were still in the repair bay, the Seeker decided. With a mental shrug, Starscream wandered toward the energon dispenser. Normally he would have strutted in, smirking over his victory at quelling Megatron's wrath. However, after pulling the promised double-shift that had re-secured his assignment to first shirt, he felt too exhausted to care. In fact, he realized, he hadn't been caring about much at all for several orns. Then again, he couldn't seem to care that he didn't care, so he dismissed his entire train of thought.

Starscream grabbed his energon cube and surveyed the open seats. The obvious choice was his trine, so he meandered over to their table and plopped down without invitation. Given the "apology" he'd given them a few orns earlier, he didn't expect to be rebuffed. Despite their tendency to argue with and insult one another, he and his trine secretly shared a brotherhood. Pondering their time together, Starscream analyzed their behavior and decided that if anything, their public abuse of one another was often a defensive screen to avoid suspicion and maltreatment from other Decepticons. Any show of affection could be manipulated, extorted, or plain mocked.

"Hey, Screamer," Skywarp said, and despite his offhand tone, he looked concerned.

"Don't call me that," Starscream replied out of habit, but even to himself, his tone sounded utterly flat.

Thundercracker leaned forward and whispered. "Starscream, are you all right? I mean, you seemed fine on the battlefield, but past that, you've not quite been yourself for orns and orns."

Considering the question, Starscream felt his usual sarcasm rise to his lips, only to die unspoken. He stared at his supper, which he hadn't even tasted. "I . . ." He hesitated. No one could really trust a Decepticon, he reminded himself, even if one had been friends with them prior to joining the cause.

At Starscream's pause, Skywarp apparently decided he'd had enough. "Okay, you're comin' with us." Standing, he abandoned his empty cube on the table and grabbed Starscream's instead. "Let's go."

Starscream stared at him, wondering what the idiot was thinking. "Go where?"

Thundercracker stood as well, taking Starscream's elbow and pulling him to his feet. "Yes, 'Warp's right. We need to go somewhere more private. This has become a trine issue."

Starscream started to protest, but as Thundercracker dragged him out of the room, he let himself be led. "Fine, fine." On one hand, he didn't care what they had in mind; on the other hand, their interest in him eased the pain searing his spark.

The bondmates ushered their trine leader to their quarters and locked the door behind them. Thundercracker directed Starscream to the desk chair, and then he and Skywarp sat on their berth, facing him.

"Tell us," Skywarp said without preamble, handing Starscream his supper. "And drink that while you do."

Starscream found himself staring again, this time in shock. Skywarp was never so bossy. Still, he found himself complying, taking long draughts of the energon as his appetite returned.

Scooting to the berth's edge, Thundercracker leaned his elbows on his legs. "You need to tell us what's going on. You and Megatron have both been acting odd. What's the ol' Slag Maker up to now?"

Choking and sputtering as the energon tried to go down the wrong pipe, Starscream swallowed hard and slammed the cube on the desk. "That's what I'd like to know!" He sagged, his wings drooping. Even his usual rage seemed to burn too much energy. "I think the fragger has finally fried too many circuits. Ever since he walked in on our bonding ritual, he's been . . ." Words failed him as his processor tried to deal with the surprise.

"He's been . . . ?" Skywarp prompted.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Starscream knocked back the rest of the energon, wishing it were high-grade. Temporary oblivion seemed appealing.

"Try us," Thundercracker said. "I mean, you saved our afts the other orn. According to Seeker Code, we must return the favor, if we can."

Rubbing his temples, Starscream sighed as an ache rose in his processor. "What do you care?" He stopped, mentally scolding himself. His trine's concern was genuine; he could tell. He so rarely received any real care he knew he was crazy to push them away. "Oh, never mind. You're right. But I warn you, it's . . . Well, you'll be disgusted."

Thundercracker and Skywarp had tensed at the harsh words, their wings going rigid, only to relax again. Skywarp spoke first. "Ah, we can handle it."

Turning toward the desk, Starscream propped his elbows on the surface and buried his face in his hands. "Well, after you two left, Megatron actually carried me to the med bay himself after beating the slag out of me. And then later he came to the control room and actually -" He paused, his emotions caught somewhere between arousal and horror. "He actually _touched_ my wings. As in _caressed_ them. And he asked me what the Seeker bonding ritual meant." He glanced at his trine-mates, expecting expressions of revulsion and shock.

Thundercracker merely traded a knowing look with Skywarp, then turned his attention to his leader. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"_What?_" Starscream stood so abruptly the chair toppled over. "Well, I was! And why _aren't_ you?" For a moment, he wondered if he'd entered a parallel universe.

His trine watched him with sad smiles and remained seated.

"Haven't you noticed?" Thundercracker asked quietly. "Megatron treats you differently than the rest of us."

"Of course I noticed!" Starscream felt almost hysterical from his sudden torrential rage. "He beats me half to death regularly!"

"That's because you challenge him all the time," Skywarp replied dryly.

Thundercracker held up a hand in a gesture of silence. "'Warp. Don't." He returned his attention to his trine leader. "No, what I mean is you're still _alive._ Megatron would have killed anyone else long ago."

Starscream sank to the floor, clutching his head with both hands as a sharp pain stabbed his processor. "But I'm his Air Commander. He really can't kill me on a whim." He suspected what Thundercracker was trying to say, but he couldn't believe it.

After a pause, Thundercracker joined him on the floor and squeezed his arm. "Starscream . . . I realize it's hard for you to accept, but from our perspective, it's obvious. Megatron, in his own twisted way, actually -"

"No!" Starscream interrupted, not willing to hear the words. "He can't! It's not possible. He hates me. He thinks I'm a fool, and he ignores everything I say." He offlined his optics, not wanting to see the expressions on his trine's faces.

"Hey, Screamer . . ." A pause, then Skywarp's voice was nearer, indicating he'd joined them on the floor. "You never finished telling us what Megatron's been doing. You said he touched your wings, but what else has he done?"

Starscream began to tremble. _They know,_ he thought, stunned. _Somehow they know! How?_ For a moment, he was tempted to slide back into the cold, numb apathy that had been plaguing him. One little mental shove, and he could be free of the pain. Yet pushing its way up from his spark's core was the ever-present rage. He onlined his optics suddenly and stared at the two mechs kneeling before him. "He made a pass at me! He was actually trying to seduce me. He's glitched, I tell you! He tried once this morning and once this afternoon. What is he doing? Why is this happening?" The words spilled out, and Starscream didn't feel like he could stop them. "This is insane. It's insane!" He shook his head, expecting them to mock him, to laugh, or at the least to retch.

"Is it?" Thundercracker asked quietly, reaching out and running one hand down Starscream's right wing. "All 'Warp and I have been wondering is why he didn't make a pass at you sooner. You two already fight like a couple who've been bonded for several million vorns."

"Wha-" Starscream's words were choked off as he shuddered violently. The cool, smooth hand caressing his wing sent a shiver through his frame. "You're crazy. Megatron hates me. He always has. He . . ."

"Don't fall apart on us, Starscream," Thundercracker whispered, moving his hand to caress the underside of his wing. "Decepticon cause be damned. There are some things that should never change."

As though the words were a signal, Skywarp leaned forward and caressed the underside of Starscream's left wing. "TC's right. You saved us like a trine leader should, the way it should be. It's something that should always be true, no matter how long we live under the Decepticon banner."

_The bonding ritual,_ Starscream thought, dazed. They were using the caresses to ask for permission to enact the complete process. His wings twitched under their touches, and he felt all the anger and tension draining from him. "T-thundercracker . . . Sky . . . warp . . ." His vocalizer failed him, and he sagged forward, falling against their shoulders.

They caught him and held him there with their free hands, then resumed their attention to his wings. Being bondmates, they easily moved in synch, moving their hands up the seam where his wings met his frame, then stroking outward in slow circles that symbolized the unbreakable, eternal bond between Seekers. Reaching the wing tips, they ran their fingers over the sensitive metal, recreating the wind's flow, which should always stream over a Seeker's body. Then, with their palms, they gently caressed the upper edge of Starscream's wings, signaling their willingness to protect him from any threat that tried to ground him.

Stifling a groan of appreciation, Starscream tried to relax against them, but his entire frame trembled. He'd forgotten the act's affection, having not engaged in it since long before crashing on Earth. More than that, he'd forgotten his own pathetic need to be cared for, and with coolant burning his optics, he cursed himself for his weakness. How could he ever take revenge on Megaton if he melted under the first kind touch to come his way?

However, he didn't pull away, and his trine-mates pushed him onto his back, laying him on the floor and resuming the ritual with the gentle circles across his wings. Starscream reached around them as they settled against him and drew smaller circles on their wings, unable to access them any better from his position. Their energy fields began to expand, passing through each other and synching. _No,_ he thought to himself. _This ritual is ancient. It's what holds trines together._ He shifted faintly when their systems completely synchronized, granting them an almost supernatural awareness of one another's mindsets, system stats, and a thousand other tiny details that could keep them alive in a battle. _As wing-mates, we have to protect each other,_ Starscream reminded himself. _We have to . . ._

His rationalization was whisked away as fingers caressed his wingtips. For a moment, the memory of Megatron's hands on his wings flashed through his processor, and that image mixed with the touches, nearly causing him to moan. Against his will, his back arched off the floor, and then he collapsed, humiliated. With their systems synched, he knew his trine had sensed his emotions immediately and likely the cause as well.

"It's all right," Thundercracker whispered, running a smooth hand down his wing's edge. "Don't be embarrassed. After all, despite what has passed between us, we are still your trine."

Starscream swallowed the second moan that threatened to pass from his lips and nodded mutely. He ran his hands along their wings' edges, signaling that he promised the same, and for once, no specter of treachery ghosted through his mind. Thundercracker and Skywarp were centering his consciousness, easing his pain, pulling his sanity through a grey haze he didn't understand himself. As the bond between them strengthened, he found he couldn't even consider reneging on his silent vow. Only one question remained.

"Aren't you going to say . . . I should resist Megatron's advances?" Starscream asked, his voice more of a croak. "Aren't you going to say . . . I should tell him . . . to go to the Pit?"

Skywarp deviated from the ritual's routine and ran one fingertip along the sensitive seam at the top of Starscream's hip, drawing an involuntary gasp from him. "You're just as obvious. And since Megatron is obviously equally interested as you are, why should we?"

Starscream shook his head. "He isn't!"

"He is," Thundercracker said, twitching his wing as Starscream's fingers brushed a sensory node. "Just wait it out, Starscream. We are here with you, remember?"

He wanted to deny their words, but he couldn't. With the gentle hands caressing him, swearing allegiance to him, Starscream could only relax against the floor and return the ritual touches the best he could. Millennia of distrust, treachery, and hate had battered them, inducting them into the Decepticon way of life, making their tempers short and their words sharp. But under it all, the ritual remained, fusing their Seeker ties too tightly for even Megatron to completely break.

Threats and insults would continue, leaving the outside world to believe no such Seeker bond existed. However, as Starscream fell into recharge under his trine's hands, he knew the abuse would all ultimately be an act, the fabled deception that earned their faction its name. The closeness was a dream he thought he'd lost, but somehow hands had been there to catch him when he fell. All that remained was the problem of Megatron, who could never understand the meaning behind the ritual, much less want to take part in it.

oOoOo

In the hallway, Soundwave disengaged his listening device from the wall and headed toward Megatron's quarters. Seeing the Seekers drag away Starscream, the communications officer had decided something important was afoot and had immediately investigated. Knowing Megatron, Soundwave figured his leader had Skywarp and Thundercracker's cabin bugged, and if he'd been keeping a watch on Starscream, Megatron was likely suffering a fit of outrage.

Soundwave rode the tubrolift to the top deck and approached his leader's quarters cautiously. Even from the hallway, he could sense Megatron's anger. Steeling himself, he buzzed the door.

The door's comm. link burst with static as it activated. "What is it?" Megatron's disembodied voice snarled.

"Information on nuances of Seeker ritual obtained," Soundwave replied.

Silence.

"Ritual more complex than first believed," he continued, hoping to calm his leader.

The door opened with a hydraulic hiss, revealing Megatron standing in front of his window bank, the ocean's dim light throwing his face into shadows. "Enter."

Soundwave complied, looking around the room as he did. The desk chair was planted in the far wall. 'Outraged' may have been an understatement. "Ritual: definitely not sexual, although Starscream had trouble not imagining your touch during it." At these words, the telepath sensed Megatron's shock. Knowing the inevitable onslaught was coming, Soundwave counted three astroseconds and inhaled silently through his intakes. Sure enough, Megatron's lust crashed through the room as he processed this piece of information.

His optics glowing brightly, Megatron stepped out of the shadows. "Is that so?"

"Affirmative." Soundwave clasped his hands behind his back, preparing to give his report.

"And these nuances you mentioned?" Megatron asked.

"The ritual includes multiple symbols," Soundwave replied. "First stage: touching wings' edges is the request to begin the bonding. Second stage: circles on wings indicate the eternal Seeker bond. Third stage: caressing wing tips affirms Seeker mastery of the sky." He paused, trying to sort the mass of emotions and half-thoughts the trine had experienced. "And perhaps shows a shared joy of flight." He filed the mountain of data for later analysis. "Fourth stage: the long caress down the wing's edge is a promise to protect one another, specifically to keep one another flight-capable."

Megatron's optics narrowed. "Protection? Yes, Starscream mentioned something along those lines when I carried out your suggestion." He fingered his chin. "So my touching his wings implies I want to invoke a ritual that will ultimately become an oath of protection."

"Indeed," Soundwave replied.

Turning to gaze out the window bank, Megatron crossed his arms over his chest. "How much time do you think we have before Starscream's sanity shatters?"

"Approximately ten orns, depending on a shift in circumstances. The ritual has partially calmed him." Soundwave paused, then decided he had to keep Megatron focused on 'winning' the 'battle.' Subtlety was definitely out of the question. "Problem: Starscream doesn't believe Megatron can understand or accept the ritual. Even as he dreams of your touch, he is convinced you would never embrace the meaning behind it."

Megatron whirled around and slammed one fist on his desk. "Protection? Why should I protect anyone? A Decepticon should be powerful enough to defend himself!" He scowled. "I'm a ruler and commander, not a nursemaid for sparklings."

"Ritual doesn't imply weakness," Soundwave replied. "Ritual invokes brotherhood. Allegiance. And it also synchs battle systems for optimal performance."

Megatron's glower faded. "Optimal performance in battle?" He faced the window bank again. In the water beyond, silvery scales flashed past as a school of fish darted around the ship.

Soundwave didn't reply, instead focusing on his leader's jumping, calculating thoughts: _. . . give us an edge in battle . . work for him if used with a non-Seeker? Allegiance? . . . stop his troublesome ambition? . . . What effect would it have if I . . . Stability? My mind would have to overpower his insanity . . . not an issue, stronger . . . Risk? . . . couldn't affect me that way . . . Slagger thinks I couldn't understand! . . . still my strongest Seeker . . . I'll prove that I . . . Action imperative . . ._

Decision apparently made, Megatron faced Soundwave again. "Well done. This information is quite enlightening. You're dismissed."

Soundwave bowed his head and exited the room, relieved to know that Megatron's rage had been averted to something more productive. With any luck, their unstable, half-psychotic Air Commander would end up mentally grounded.

The benefit to such a change, Soundwave believed, was invaluable. With the leader and his second working together instead of fighting each other, the Decepticons could crush the Autobots in short order.

oOoOo

From his console, Starscream watched Megatron, who sat in his command chair, the throne of the control room. He'd been avoiding the tyrant for three solid orns, not giving him the chance to corner him and try touching his wings again. Despite his trine's reassurances, he couldn't believe Megatron had any sincere interest in him. At the most, Megatron probably wanted him as a toy. A pretty little interfacing toy to be discarded at the first inconvenience. Yes, the only reason Starscream's trine had said he and Megatron were of the same mindset was because they didn't realize that . . .

_That what?_ Starscream quizzed himself. _What am I thinking? That I actually want some kind of relationship with the slagger? I really am insane!_

Megatron glanced his way and raised one optic ridge, obviously noting Starscream's staring. He jerked around, fixing his attention on his monitor before the fragger got angry and accused him of shirking his duties. Oddly, though, all Starscream heard was a faint laugh instead of hateful words.

_He must be mocking me,_ Starscream thought, frowning. _Given what Thundercracker and Skywarp said, it must be really obvious to him that I've been having . . . thoughts._ He clenched his fist on his console. _No wonder he's been trying to take advantage of me. Well, I'm not that easy!_

The main comm. link flashed red, then Soundwave's voice pierced the quiet hum of electronics. ::Soundwave to Lord Megatron.::

Starscream opened the communication channel as Megatron stood and walked up behind his chair.

"Report," Megatron replied as Soundwave's face appeared on the viewscreen.

::Mission complete. Information verified,:: Soundwave said. ::Autobots have design plans for Japanese power plant. The officials gave them the specs in payment for helping them rebuild the structure.::

"Excellent." Megatron rested his hand casually on Starscream's shoulder.

The Seeker froze, not wanting to draw everyone's attention by jerking away. Now what was the slagger up to?

"Remain hidden, Soundwave, but prepare for infiltration," Megatron continued. "We'll launch an attack to use as a diversion, so be ready."

::Understood. Soundwave out.::

The screen turned black as the connection closed. Starscream dared to glance over his shoulder.

Megatron smiled at him with his I-will-rule-the-universe leer. "Time to fight. Gather the Seekers and inform them of your strategy to pull the Autobots away from _Ark_. We'll be leaving in a breem." He turned and exited the room, leaving Starscream to stare after him.

_He's giving me some latitude to create a strategy?_ he thought, stunned into silence. _Did someone slip him high-grade for breakfast?_

Thundercracker walked over and squeezed his other shoulder. "Let's go, Starscream. No use in blowing such a fine opportunity to show your stuff."

Starscream shook his processor clear and stood. "Right. Summon our resident Coneheads. A good slaughter will do us all some good."

oOoOo

In his jet form, Starscream flew alongside Megatron as they headed for the power plant nearest Autobot headquarters and tried to figure out what he was plotting. Megatron had actually listened to his strategy for the Seekers without interrupting, and then had led them to the location that would draw the most Autobots - and quickly.

Looking at him with a smirk, Megatron spoke quietly. "You're terribly silent, Starscream. What's on your treacherous little mind?"

Starscream remained in alt mode, depriving him of seeing his facial expressions. "Just wondering why the mighty Megatron saw fit to let me think for myself for once."

Megatron snorted. "Consider it a test, Air Commander."

"I'll pass it, then," Starscream replied, unsure whether to believe the claim but responding nonetheless. "I've had many sound strategies you've ignored over the vorns."

"We shall see, little fool," Megatron said, then waved for the Constructicons to follow him. "Ground forces with me!" He dived toward the human city.

Starscream gathered his scattered thoughts and activated his comm. link. ::Seekers, strafing runs on the highways at the city's edge. Make a mess of them before we head to the power plant.::

As soon as the chorus of acknowledgements answered him, Starscream kicked in his thrusters and opened fire, streaking for the city and decimating the support pillars of an overpass.

::Slag, yeah!:: came Skywarp's yell through the comm. link, and through their Seeker bond, Starscream felt him disappear. Moments later he teleported in over some skyscrapers, diving between them and bombing the traffic-filled streets. The Coneheads cut sharply to the right, rolling as they targeted their own patch to terrorize, and Thundercracker followed Starscream in blasting several more overpasses.

Figuring the Autobots had been called for reinforcements, Starscream gained altitude again. ::Enough. Seekers, to the power plant!::

With a few final shots, the other Seekers trailed him, but before they could reach the facility, Starscream's radar picked up six incoming signals: the Aerialbots plus Powerglide.

After an initial jolt of pique, Starscream felt inexplicably tired. ::Don't these guys ever die?:: he sighed through the comm. link. In his processor, all he could see was Megatron yelling at him for losing the battle, blaming him for another failed mission, and beating him to scrap metal. If Soundwave didn't get the Japanese design specs, it would be Starscream who'd be punished. ::Seekers, engage Aerialbots,:: he ordered. Somewhere in his spark, he wanted to rise to meet Megatron's expectations, even if they were feigned, but the emotional boost that the bonding ritual had given him was weakening. Once again, that strange black apathy threatened to consume him, stealing his energy and draining him of all feeling.

Flight was all he had left, Starscream knew. Whether in battle or not, the air rushing over his wings was the only thing that appealed to him. So with a tight turn, he changed headings, streaking toward his enemies and firing upon them. The other Seekers followed suit.

Speeding past his leader, Air Raid took front, dashing straight into the midst of the Seekers. "Take that, Decepticreeps!" He opened fire with his torque gun, showering his enemies with blasts.

::I'll take the rash idiot,:: Starscream said, following the black jet and firing his null rays. Air Raid evaded his attack, and Starscream cursed as the reckless F15C Eagle sling-shotted around a skyscraper and opened fire on him. Starscream knew the brat could reach Mach 2.5, almost matching his own Mach 2.8, but that wasn't what concerned him. He kicked in his afterburners, attempting to gain space, but Air Raid had already deployed his heat-seeking missiles.

::Thundercracker! Skywarp! Heat-seekers on my tail,:: he said, calling for assistance. Not wasting time, he jerked into a ninety degree dive, then turned sharply, firing at the missiles. The first one exploded, and the roar of approaching F15s told Starscream his wing-mates were on their way. However, it was too late. Although he cut sharply to his left, Starscream couldn't dodge the remaining missile, which nicked his right wing and detonated, hurling him toward the ground. With a howl of pain, he tried to control his descent, employing his speed brake, but despite his best efforts, he crashed at the power plant. No one could stop his fall this time. Transforming and rolling as he hit the ground, he managed to land less than a meter from Megatron's right side. The tyrant glanced at him, his fusion cannon already aglow from fighting, and Starscream suspected he'd be shot for his failure.

However, the oddness of the past few orns blanketed Starscream's processor, leaving him in a grey, numb fog. Now he had nothing, not even the capacity to fly. Meeting Megatron's crimson gaze, he knew he was going to die . . .

. . . and he just couldn't seem to care.


	8. Transformation

_"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances:  
if there is any reaction, both are transformed."  
--Carl Jung (1875-1961)_

_**Chapter 8: Transformation**_

Megatron opened his comm. link as a beep announced the incoming signal. ::Megatron here.:: A burst of static interrupted the connection, and he took cover behind the power plant's main building and fired at Optimus Prime. _That slagger,_ he thought. _Prime looks like he didn't take_ any _damage in Japan!_ Stowing his thoughts, he retried the connection. ::Soundwave? Report.::

::Infiltration: complete,:: the communications officer replied. ::Design specs: stolen. One breem until safely out of Autobot territory.::

::Acknowledged,:: Megatron replied. ::We'll keep them distracted until you're clear. Megatron out.:: Feeling pleased with this development, he concentrated his efforts on Optimus Prime, hoping to secure two victories in one day. To his far right, Devastator brutalized Jazz, Prowl, and the irritating Lamborghini twins, while to his left the Stunticons had arrived to terrorize the minibots. All he had to do was take out Prime, and the Decepticons would easily crush their enemies. But as he took aim at his mortal enemy's spark, he heard the whine of an approaching jet engine and the stressed pitch that indicated the Seeker in question had lost control.

Megatron glanced to his right as his air commander crashed and transformed, rolling to a stop not a meter away. Starscream stared up at him, his optics showing a flash of fear before dulling. Apathy. Utter hopelessness. Acceptance of death. Megatron watched the suddenly emotionless grey face and knew Starscream expected him to kill him.

_Why? The mission is a success, after all,_ Megatron wondered, chancing a look at the sky, where the Seekers were outnumbered six to four now. He glanced back at Starscream, whose right wing was scorched black, the metal still smoking from the wound. Dents and scrapes marred the red and silver paint of the Seeker's entire right side. _Heat-seeking missiles,_ he decided. _Probably Air Raid. Hardly Starscream's finest hour, but casualties are a part of war._

Starscream continued to stare at him blankly, obviously awaiting a blow, a shot, or at the least cutting words. Megatron admitted to himself that he would normally declare the Seeker an idiot, but the black hole apparently crushing Starscream's spark stopped him. _If I beat him,_ Megatron thought, _Starscream wouldn't feel anything, and if I killed him, what purpose would it serve?_

None, Megatron decided. He wanted the Seeker's cunning mind, cruel plots, and wicked smiles. His ambition was troublesome, but a certain beauty graced his twisted mind. In Megatron's view of the universe, such qualities had a use.

"Snap out of it, Starscream," he said, narrowing his optics, "or an Autobot is going to shoot you in the -"

He never finished the sentence. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had circumvented Devastator, who was breaking into his component mechs as the Autobot reinforcements arrived and added their firepower. Megatron saw that the twins' gazes were trained on the fallen Starscream, their blasters in hand, aimed straight at his wings.

Soundwave's earlier words to him seemed to ring in Megatron's processor: _"The long caress down the wing's edge is a promise to protect one another, specifically to keep one another flight-capable . . . Problem: Starscream doesn't believe Megatron can understand or accept the ritual."_

With a snarl, Megatron turned his fusion cannon toward the Lamborghinis. "Slaggit!" The impulse felt foreign, unnatural, even deviant, but in that instant he realized there was only one path to reach his goal. He refused to admit defeat no matter how crazed his air commander had become, so he fired at the twins, knocking them down and sending their blasters flying from their hands.

Starscream had cringed as the cannon turned his general direction, but when the shot passed above his head, he glanced backward. His entire frame seemed to freeze in shock.

"Get up, fool!" Megatron snapped. He stalked over, grabbing Starscream by the elbow and jerking him to his feet. "Fight! Only a few kliks and this will be finished."

Although his balance wavered at first, Starscream nodded and opened fire with his null rays. Megatron kept his left hand on the Seeker's right elbow, pulling him backward one step at a time, moving them toward the power plant's periphery.

"One more klik," he told the dazed Starscream, who simply nodded again as he continued to fire. If he could keep the Seeker stable for just a while longer . . .

::Soundwave to Lord Megatron.::

Megatron smirked as his comm. link flared to life. ::Megatron. Report.::

::Position: clear and nearing the _Nemesis_. Mission: successful.::

::Excellent. Megatron out.:: He wasted not a moment more. "Decepticons! Retreat!" He tugged on Starscream, almost pulling him into the sky as they took flight. Although the Seeker kicked in his thrusters, apparently by rote, Megatron realized that even after they were airborne he couldn't release him because of his wounds.

"You shot _them_," Starscream muttered as they gained altitude, not even acknowledging the hand supporting him. His crimson optics were dull and glazed over. "They were going to fire at my wings, and you . . . you . . ."

"Don't be so melodramatic, you fool," Megatron replied. Perhaps he could distract the little idiot with a round of their usual insults.

But Starscream started laughing instead, his frame shaking as he spoke. "It's impossible. Downright absurd!" he shrieked, his tone hysterical. "You don't care! There's some kind of ulterior motive." He burst into another peal of laughter, this one higher-pitched than the first. Half sobs, even. "It's sick, even for you! Sick!"

Megatron accelerated to his top speed, realizing his air commander's remaining sanity had cracked. "Like I said, you're a fool." He realized his tone lacked its usual disdain. "Now concentrate on staying in the sky, or I'll let you drop."

However, the Seeker continued to cackle, sucking air through his intakes in quick, uneven spurts. To his surprise, Megatron found it was something he didn't really want to see. He felt no victory or satisfaction in it, not even revulsion or pity. Just the sense that the Seeker was out of time.

And Megatron hated nothing more than failing to achieve what he wanted.

oOoOo

Once they reached the _Nemesis_, Megatron didn't even stop to speak with Soundwave. As they entered the tower, he kept his hold on Starscream and merely gave his third-in-command an order in passing: "Soundwave, begin analysis of the designs. Employ the Constructicons if needed."

The communications officer took one look at the cackling Seeker and nodded. "Acknowledged."

Megatron felt the stares of the other Decepticons on his back as he hauled the hysterical Starscream away. A deathly silence had descended upon the troops, and he knew they assumed Starscream would be permanently deactivated because of his obvious insanity. Megatron, however, had other plans.

As he pulled the Seeker into the turbolift, Megatron ran several scenarios through his processor. He likely had only one shot at pulling Starscream out of his shifting psychotic-to-apathetic state before his bipolar behavior resulted in senseless destruction. As they traveled to the top deck, Starscream fell into random muttering, the words so quiet Megatron couldn't catch them. He seemed to be heading into a trance.

When the lift doors opened, Megatron wrapped his arm around the Seeker's waist and half-supported, half-dragged him down the hall to the captain's quarters. When Starscream didn't react to his surroundings, Megatron managed to haul him into his office and deposit him in a chair. The Seeker stared out the windows, face expressionless.

"Starscream!" Megatron sharpened his tone, hoping to pull his SIC out of his near-trance. "Look at me."

"The smaller shark died," Starscream murmured, his gaze lost in the ocean's depths. "Its blood coated the window, but the ocean just washed it away."

Megatron had no idea what he was talking about since nothing but fish flitted outside the windows. Granted, several sharks did hunt in the waters around the _Nemesis_, but Starscream's particular observation seemed random. He grabbed Starscream's chin and forced him to look at him. "Focus! Where is the sneaky, sparkless, ruthless glitch who defies my orders? Wake up, fool!"

Dim crimson optics gazed upon him. "Fool? Fool . . . always the fool, the coward." The words were quiet, emotionless. "You never did listen to a word I said."

"I'm listening now," Megatron growled. "Just pull your thoughts together enough to make sense when you talk."

"The power of a predator," Starscream continued as though he hadn't spoken. "I never wanted you to replace my father. My scientific knowledge was useful, but that wasn't what I really wanted from you."

Megatron frowned. The babbling almost had meaning, but the Seeker kept referring to everything in the past tense, almost as though he considered himself already dead. Unsure how else to snap Starscream out of his daze, Megatron slapped his face hard enough to nearly topple the chair, but then he steadied it as the _smack_ echoed through the expansive grey room.

For a moment, Starscream didn't react. Then his posture snapped rigid and his optics suddenly brightened into their familiar hateful glare. "Slagger!" He lashed out and hit Megatron's chest with both palms, trying to push him away. "Why did you shoot those glitches? You hate me! You acted almost like you meant to protect me, but we both know I'm just another pawn to you." He pushed again, harder, when Megatron didn't move. "Let me go. I love a good mind game, but I don't exist to be your bitch!"

Megatron understood the human reference, but he was too relieved to see Starscream's venom to respond to the accusation. "Good! Give me your rage. I want to see your hatred. You are not Starscream unless you're scheming and hurling insults."

Starscream stopped struggling, his hands seemingly frozen in place on Megatron's chest. "What?" He stared at him. "You can't be serious. Isn't your motto 'Extinction for all traitors?'"

"Oh, you're certainly a pain in the aft, young fool." Megatron smirked. "But you know very well if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. All I have to do is aim at your spark, and you know my aim is infallible, especially at point blank range."

Starscream continued to stare at him, his mouth opening as though to reply, but no words emerged.

Megatron found himself staring at those lips. _How long?_ he wondered. _How long have I had this desire and simply buried it? But how could I act on it when Starscream is the most treacherous of all Decepticons? And yet I have let him live all this time, never stopping to truly consider why I spared him._

Dropping his hands, Starscream leaned back in the chair, his gaze showing alarm and, conversely, a trace of desire.

"This is quite a complicated dance we've engaged in," Megatron said, amused by the Seeker's discomfort. "But I've never liked dancing."

Starscream's wings perked up, his right one matching his left one despite his injury, and revealed his growing apprehension. "M-Megatron . . ."

Megatron smirked. He'd gotten Starscream focused and calmed. Now was his one shot at recovering the Seeker's sanity. More than that, it was his chance to curb Starscream's insubordination, to bring him in line with his goals, to secure some stability for the command structure without having his SIC's entire personality programming replaced. A victory on multiple, almost innumerable counts.

And then there were those wings. Those sleek, proud wings . . .

Megatron's fingers itched with the need to touch the Seeker, and Starscream seemed frozen with shock. Remembering what Soundwave had said about the Seeker bonding ritual, he reached out, caressing the edge of Starscream's uninjured wing. Granted, Megatron could simply take what he wanted, but force would defeat his whole purpose. With a light touch, he traced the wing, asking permission to begin the ritual.

Gasping through his intakes, Starscream jumped. "What . . . do you think you're . . ." His wing twitched. "What are you _doing_?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Megatron replied. Starscream hadn't pulled away, so he proceeded. "I may not be a Seeker, but as you pointed out yourself, I did stop those Autobots from shooting your wings." He drew slow circles across the expanse of the smooth metal, eliciting a shiver. "Like I said, I don't like dancing. Deception is useful, but this has grown ridiculous."

Starscream squirmed, trying to escape. "You don't understand what you're doing! If you did, you wouldn't do it. You would never protect anyone except to cause a false sense of security."

In any other circumstance, Megatron would have acknowledged the claim as true. However, the cool metal that slowly warmed under his fingers dredged up not only lust but also emotions he didn't recognize or understand. With something near fascination, he ran his palms over Starscream's wing tip, tracing the contours as he did.

The Seeker slumped into the chair with a choked moan. "D-don't," he whispered, his wings trembling.

"You don't sound very convincing," Megatron replied, only to realize his own vocalizer sounded raspy, almost hoarse. He ran his palm down the wing's edge again, slowly, and memorized the feeling. A fire seemed to light in his tank, a desire, and with it a nameless sensation. Without hesitation, he glided his hand over the wing's expanse, alternating between circles and strokes.

Starscream gasped again, arching into the touch before suddenly shoving Megatron in the chest. "No! You're making a mockery of it. You don't understand. You can't! You hate me. This is one deception I refuse to tolerate!"

Caught off-guard because of his own strange emotions, Megatron found himself knocked backward a step. "I'm not mocking you," he growled, angered to have the odd but pleasant sensations interrupted. He traced one finger over the wing. "As impossible as it seems to you, I am not employing a ruse."

"Stop it!" Starscream shrieked, shoving wildly against Megatron's chest as a look of panic blossomed across his face. "Lies! It's all lies." He fired his thrusters, giving himself the necessary momentum to knock the chair backward. After an effortless back-roll, he bolted for the door.

Megatron clenched his fists, exasperated. "Running won't help you, coward."

Starscream transformed immediately, firing at the door, and tore through the jagged hole. The screeching of metal against metal told Megatron that he'd injured himself further.

"Slaggit!" Megatron briefly considered killing the psychotic fool and being done with it, but his entire hand seemed to burn from the touches. He knew his own desires for dominance and conquest, and he recognized lust when he felt it. But he was also well aware that something more complex was occurring, something that stopped him from simply firing his fusion cannon at his SIC's retreating form. Besides, killing the little idiot would be to admit defeat.

With a sigh, Megatron activated his comm. link. ::Megatron to Thundercracker.::

::Thundercracker here, sir,:: came the reply.

::Get Skywarp and track down your insane trine leader. He's still hysterical. Drag his aft to Hook for repairs.::

::Acknowledged!:: Thundercracker sounded genuinely worried.

::Megatron out.:: He cut the connection and considered his damaged door. It looked like he'd need to summon Scrapper. "Coward," he hissed to his absent air commander, but he set aside his rage for once. Some campaigns took patience. It was inconvenient, but true. ::Megatron to Scrapper,:: he said, opening the comm. link again and suspecting the next few joors would be long and exhausting.

oOoOo

Starscream sat curled in the corner of Thundercracker and Skywarp's berth. Although his newly repaired wing still stung, he folded both wings close to his body and wrapped his arms around his knees. Thundercracker sat at his desk, watching him silently, and Starscream didn't acknowledge his presence. The world seemed too surreal to acknowledge. He was in a parallel universe, an alternate reality, some kind of warped, senseless dimension. Talking to the oddities who shared names and faces with his compatriots was a waste of energy.

The door hissed open, and Skywarp entered balancing three energon cubes in his arms. "Any change?"

"None." Thundercracker accepted his supper, although his gaze never shifted from Starscream.

"This is bad, TC," Skywarp said, sitting on the berth by his trine leader and placing a cube by him. "He's totally catatonic now. I'm not sure he's comin' back."

Starscream listened to the conversation, noting that the oddities didn't seem to mind talking about him like he wasn't there. Convenient, really, since he _wasn't_ there. Or he was, but he shouldn't be. When had he slipped into this nightmare realm?

"I know." Thundercracker sipped his energon, then abandoned the cube on the desk and walked to Starscream. "Listen," he said, sitting on the berth's edge. "You have a choice to make, and 'Warp and I are hoping you'll make the right one."

Starscream just stared at him. Maybe it wasn't a parallel universe. Maybe he really had died when Megatron had attacked him in the control room, and everything that had happened since that day had been images sent to torture him. He was in the Pit, eternally damned to hover between his greatest anguish and most secret dream.

Thundercracker continued despite the lack of a reply. "Your first choice is to let yourself go - or stay - insane and maybe even kill yourself because you will never accept Megatron's rather twisted but sincere feelings for you."

_Megatron is incapable of any sincerity beyond sincere hate,_ Starscream thought, but he didn't bother to respond to the apparition addressing him.

"Yeah," Skywarp said. "We saw him turn and defend you from the Twin Terrors. They totally had your wings in their sights, and he stopped them cold."

Thundercracker nodded. "Exactly. You really shouldn't doubt where this is all headed now." He sighed through his intakes. "So your second choice is to grant Megatron some temporary trust, and well . . ."

"Let him give you the overload of your lifetime," Skywarp supplied bluntly.

Starscream found himself staring at Skywarp instead. "Would _you_ climb in the berth with Megatron?" he asked before he could stop himself.

His trine-mates jumped, apparently shocked to hear him finally speak. Skywarp recovered first. "I'm not you," he replied dryly. "And we all know you're _different_ in Megatron's optics."

Thundercracker rubbed his temples with his fingers in a gesture that suggested he had a processor ache. "Starscream . . . if you interface with him, your systems will synchronize. You'll get immediate feedback, a complete data stream. He won't be able to deceive you because your systems will literally be peripheral to his own and vice versa."

"Yeah," Skywarp said. "Don't you want this to be over?" He paused, sipping his energon. "Megatron protected your wings today and ordered us to make sure you were repaired. Take that as a temporary truce or something and just make the jump. Then you'll know the truth either way, and you won't have to wonder anymore."

The apparitions were surprisingly logical. Starscream frowned at them and picked up his energon cube, gulping the contents out of something like habit. "Well," he finally replied, "I'm already dead and already in the Pit, so I suppose I have little else to lose."

His trine-mates traded worried looks, but Starscream ignored them. He found he didn't really care how many more times he died since he couldn't end up in any place worse than the Pit, and the possibility of finding some shred of proof, of truth, of hope beckoned to him. The apparitions were correct: he could stop this endless wondering. Even if he landed solidly in the Pit's torture, at least all remaining traces of his emotions would be snuffed out. "Death will end death, if anything," he muttered to himself, although he doubted the apparitions would understand what he meant.

As it turned out, however, neither Thundercracker nor Skywarp had the chance to respond. The red alert alarms blared to life, and Soundwave's passionless voice transmitted on all frequencies:

::Intruder alert. All Decepticons to their posts: Autobot infiltration.::

Starscream simply laughed. Since he assumed he was already dead, he stood and walked toward the door, feeling utterly fearless. "Let's go. Eternity will be less boring if I get to kill Autobots every once in awhile."

The sound of hesitant footsteps followed him.

* * *

_Postscript: This chapter was inspired in part by KiaMianara's "Tired."_

_I just want to say again how much I appreciate all your reviews. I don't usually stop to send out PMs because I'm buried in work, or in the case of this week, I was off but wrote or edited chapters 8 and 9 of "Sound and Fury," chapter 3 of "No Quiet to Find," and chapters 1 and 2 of a new story, "Magic and Loss." However, your reviews still mean the universe to me, so thank you to Cleargold, Lady Prime, Supernich, Ameri, Razz2b, herongale, The Forbidden Secrets, Wol Lo, SuperMoose, Misao-CG, The Transdresser, itsu-sual, rogi16, Jessie07, Carmilla DeWinter, narmoture, Shirox, and Kyra Neko-Rei._


	9. Quench

_Okay, people. __**Warning: mech/mech plug n' play,**__ a.k.a. intimacy between androgynous but male-"pronoun'd" 'bots. Initial dubcon, but definitely still not noncon._

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* * *

  
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_"I come out of a grave to tell you this; I come out of a grave  
to quench the kiss that flames upon your forehead with a glow."  
--"Luke Havergal," E.A. Robinson_

_**Chapter 9: Quench**_

Enraged, Megatron fired at the Autobots infiltrating his base. Soundwave and Dirge had joined him in the command center, each concentrating his weapons on their enemies. However, Mirage, Jazz, Bumblebee, Seaspray, and Bluestreak had taken cover behind a computer bank.

"Slaggit," Megatron growled, piercing the computer with a shot from his cannon. Collateral damage could not be contained.

Bluestreak dodged the blast, then took aim, firing at the _Nemesis'_ central computer. Jazz whooped as smoke filled the air.

"You will die for this!" Megatron fired at Bluestreak again, knowing the gunner had destroyed their work on the power plant's designs. Mirage jerked this companion aside, saving him.

"I want reinforcements!" Megatron's temper flared dangerously, but before Soundwave could deploy his cassettes, Starscream and his trine swept through the doorway.

Megatron opened his mouth to yell "finish them," but the words never left his vocalizer. Starscream marched into the room, optics narrowed into a crimson glow, null rays pointed at his enemies, and a smirk on his lips. His wings were perked, held with obvious pride, and he didn't bother to take cover. He fired with chilling precision, not even flinching at the blast that hit his left arm, and caught Bumblebee and Jazz in the chest. Without pausing he continued to stalk forward, firing at the remaining Autobots, an unholy glee uplifting the corners of his mouth, and all Megatron could see was the _predator._ Starscream was the hammerhead shark, gracefully diving into the helpless fish, snapping fins and backbones, bloodying the water, and striking without mercy.

To his shock, Megatron felt his core body temperature jump several degrees. The irritating traitor in Starscream was completely suppressed, leaving only the cold commander who had ordered his Seeker classmates into the sky millions of stellar cycles earlier. Sleek, elegant, and deadly.

"Come to steal back the plans?" Starscream sneered at the Autobots. "Or simply destroy them? Your sickening 'heroism' is pathetic. We have been stronger than you since the beginning, and all your useless fighting and flailing will only prolong your deaths." He fired at Bluestreak, who ducked into a forward roll, then at Mirage, who chose that moment to vanish. Apparently unaffected by their temporary escape, he concentrated his firepower on Seaspray.

Dirge, Thundercracker, and Skywarp had all grown motionless, simply staring at Starscream and apparently remembering why he was the SIC in the first place. Megatron started to yell at them, to make them focus on the fight at hand, only to notice Soundwave. The telepath stood completely rigid, his hand suspended over the buttons on his chest. He seemed too shocked to remember to summon his cassettes, and his gaze was pinned on the air commander. Seeing this, Megatron realized that Starscream's behavior was not an act, not mere bravado. The Seeker's emotions and state of mind had taken Soundwave aback so severely that he seemed unable to process it.

Pushing aside his observations, Megatron resumed his previous train of thought. "Kill them!" He opened fire again, a wide spread meant to catch Mirage. Bluestreak had targeted his cannon, however, and lived up to his reputation as a sharpshooter by nearly blasting the cannon off his arm. Megatron growled, readjusting his weapon, only to be rocked as a blast tore through the ship's hull. Mirage appeared the instant his rocket-dart rifle fired, but it was too late: water began gushing into the room.

"Emergency shields!" Megatron yelled, attempting to stop the Autobots' escape. However, Seaspray grabbed Jazz, and Mirage grabbed Bumblebee. Without hesitation, the 'bots forced their way out of the opening, Bluestreak covering their escape. Since the ocean was pouring into his command center, Megatron diverted his attention to saving their computers, only to find himself beaten to the controls.

"Emergency shield activated," Starscream reported calmly from the main console. "Initiating emergency drains." The whirl of engines filled the room as the water was siphoned away; a blue forcefield covered the hull breech. Starscream glanced over his shoulder and met Megatron's gaze. "We have enough control left to fire our missiles, but the targeting computer is down. Do you wish for me to upon fire upon them before they are out of range?"

Megatron considered the information. "Negative. Without the targeting computer, we run the risk of hitting the periphery of our own base."

"Acknowledged." Starscream returned his attention to the console. "Computer banks four, seven, nine, and thirteen are damaged, and four looks like it will have to be completely replaced. Initiating self-repair systems on seven, nine, and thirteen."

Even as Starscream finished his report, Ramjet and Thrust ran into the room, apparently having detected the trouble spot, only to stop and stare at the SIC. Megatron realized that all five Seekers were now gaping at their air commander, and Soundwave was still frozen in place.

::Megatron to Soundwave.:: He opened his comm. link, deciding it was best to not draw attention to his third-in-command's status.

A pause. ::Yes, Lord Megatron?::

::You're acting strangely. Report.:: Megatron kept his gaze on Starscream, watching as he flipped through various controls, activating or deactivating systems with quick, precise movements.

::Starscream has completely disassociated,:: Soundwave replied, sounding puzzled. ::However, his higher cerebral functions are at maximum efficiency. Suggestion: ground him before his logic circuits deteriorate. Time to total personality dysfunction: five joors or less.::

::Acknowledged.:: Megatron wasn't sure what Soundwave meant by "disassociated," but he still cut the connection and began issuing orders. "Ramjet, Thrust, and Dirge-deploy and track the Autobots. Destroy them before they can return to their base. Soundwave, call the Constructicons and begin work on the damaged computer banks. Thundercracker and Skywarp, verify that all the water has been drained from the ship and check for additional signs of damage."

A chorus of "affirmative," "acknowledged," and "yes, sir" filled the air as the six mechs snapped out of their stupors and set to work.

Starscream turned from the main console. "A systems check verifies that the power plant specs were destroyed in the attack. I assume Soundwave kept a backup in his own databanks, however."

"Affirmative," Soundwave replied.

Megatron nodded. "Indeed. It's a setback, but not a loss. Starscream, come with me."

"Yes, leader." Just a trace of sarcasm flitted through Starscream's voice, enough to make him sound like himself but not enough to suggest insubordination.

For the second time that day, Megatron led Starscream to his quarters. However, this time Starscream followed him willingly. Megatron found his entire body burning, not just his fingertips. Sometime in the passing millennia, he had forced himself to forget just what kind of effect Starscream had on him when the Seeker was performing at optimal capacity. At the same time, his change in attitude was both intriguing and troublesome, if Soundwave were to be believed. Megatron knew he had only a few joors to "fix" his SIC, and as his fingers itched to touch those sleek wings, he found he wanted to win this particular battle more than ever.

oOoOo

As they rode in the turbolift, Starscream ignored the pain in his left arm. After all, one expected to experience pain while in the Pit, and the wound was minor. "It's unusual for the Autobots to act so quickly," he commented, pondering the infiltration. "Prime's usually so overcautious and afraid of getting his mechs killed." He chuckled, imagining horror flashing through Optimus Prime's optics. "I can almost see his reaction if the Coneheads manage to at least finish off Jazz and Bumblebee."

Megatron gazed at him, not replying for once, a look of curiosity lifting one optic ridge. Starscream decided that in the Pit or this parallel universe - whichever it was that he was in - Megatron wasn't going to act quite the same.

"At any rate," Starscream continued, relaxing into the surreal atmosphere around him, "as soon as the computer banks are repaired, Soundwave can begin his analysis again. They may have cost us some time, but in the end, they really gained nothing."

"True. And you, in particular, performed . . . efficiently," Megatron replied as the lift doors opened. He walked toward his quarters, and Starscream followed, rather liking this alternate Megatron. He seemed less like a slagger, and to Starscream's way of thinking, even if Megatron turned on him and attacked, it really wouldn't matter. He was already dead, after all.

Megatron punched in the access code for his door, and Starscream followed him into the room, wandering over to the window banks. Outside, two sharks darted through the water, seeming to dance. Starscream frowned, tensing as he thought a fight would begin and feeling strange pity for the smaller shark. However, after a klik of weaving around one another, the sharks simply brushed against each other and streaked away, side-by-side.

"They didn't fight," Starscream observed quietly. "But they always fight, don't they? An endless battle over territory and dominance."

Megatron had joined him at the windows. "The longer we've been here, the more I've noticed differences. Apparently not all breeds of shark are solitary hunters."

Starscream felt surprised his leader had bothered to notice. "Really? Then they were actually _socializing_?"

"It may have even been a courtship ritual," Megatron replied, turning his glowing, crimson gaze upon him.

Disturbed by the innuendo, Starscream walked away and stood on the far side of the desk. Suddenly this alternate Megatron was reminding him too much of the real one. "So what did you wish to discuss?"

Megatron walked over to his desk as well, resting both fists on the surface and leaning forward. "Our little ruse."

Starscream's spark pulsed, sending an electrical wave of fear through his limbs. His wings twitched. "R-ruse?" As his discomfort level rose, Starscream found that this parallel universe was beginning to seem less and less surreal. Thundercracker's and Skywarp's words rushed through his processor, urging him to find the answer to his question, to locate the truth the only way he could: systems synchronization. And that meant-

"How many millions of stellar cycles did we barely miss each other in the hallway?" Megatron asked, walking around his desk. "It has occurred to me that we've maintained our little ruse for quite a long time."

"W-what?" Starscream backed toward the door, nervous. What exactly was Megatron saying? _No,_ he thought. _I'm not dead or in a parallel universe. This is real. Those touches, this panic, this confusion . . . it's all real!_ He felt his carefully constructed denial crumbling.

"Shall we cease this charade? As I said earlier, I don't like to dance." Megatron kept approaching, his red optics shining brightly with desire.

Starscream realized his intentions at once. _The slagger really means to follow through with this!_ His panic intensified, battling with his need to know the truth. The terror won, and he ran to the door, which he found locked. Maybe if he blasted it . . .

He raised his arm to fire, but he heard rushing footsteps behind him. Megatron grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around him and pinning his arms to his sides.

"Where are you going, my little coward?" The words lacked their usual disdain.

"M-Megatron-"

Starscream didn't have the chance to get more terrified. Gentle lips brushed his audio receptor, then kissed a trail down his neck. He froze in shock, not expecting such tenderness, and Megatron took advantage by nipping the cords at the base of his neck. Starscream moaned faintly, feeling the electronic field around his body fluctuate. But he still assumed Megatron saw him as a toy and, not wanting that truth thrown in his face, he struggled to escape.

"Why are you trying to run?" Again, the words weren't derisive, but Megatron still kept him pinned with ease.

To his ultimate horror, Starscream felt coolant pooling in his eyes. He'd humiliated himself many times to save his life and to live to have revenge another orn, but he'd never let Megatron see him cry, so he forcefully repressed the tears. "Don't mock me," he ground out, his voice raspier than usual. "If you hate me this much, just shoot me in the spark and be done with it."

He was released abruptly, only to feel strong hands on his shoulders, spinning him around and pressing him to the door. Megatron captured his wrists and pinned them to the door as well.

"Mock you?" Megatron's optics narrowed, but the red glow lacked its usual hate. "Use that scientific training of yours, my little fool. Am I mocking you?" He leaned down and pressed his lips against Starscream's in a passion-filled kiss.

Starscream responded against his will, instantly returning the passion, and in that moment he realized Megatron's energy field was fluctuating as wildly as his own. When Megatron pulled away and met his gaze, Starscream struggled to find words. "But . . . you've always despised me. You wouldn't listen to a word I said, you called me a coward and a fool, you rejected my company, you -"

Megatron silenced the protests with another kiss, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. When he pulled back again, it was only by a few millimeters, causing his lips to brush against Starscream's as he replied. "You always questioned my orders, you demanded more than your fair share of my attention, and you thought you were special, somehow better than all the others."

A nova of pain erupted in Starscream's spark, and he jerked his face away, staring to the side. _I wanted to be special,_ he admitted to himself, although he'd never tell Megatron. _But I'm not! You don't see me as anything but your personal punching bag._

At this action, Megatron simply kissed and nipped his neck instead. "I can't be what you need me to be, and you can't be what I want you to be," he whispered between nips.

Starscream's intakes hitched in a sound reminiscent of a sob. By far this was the worst torture Megatron had ever dreamt up. "Don't," was all he could say.

Megatron took Starscream's chin in his fingers and forced him to face him. "So do we spend the rest of eternity trying to conquer each other?"

Starscream merely stared at him, unable to reply.

"It's pointless," Megatron continued, rubbing his thumb against Starscream's jaw. "For you and you alone I will call a truce. Stop fighting me. You are already mine."

"No!" Starscream pushed against the hands and body that pinned him. He refused to be Megatron's toy, even if it cost him his life. "I'm not some plaything for you to use and then cast away."

"At what point did I indicate this would be a one-night stand, my little fool?" Megatron asked, a smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

_"You are already mine."_

Starscream tried to collect his scattered thoughts. "But you said-"

"The truth for once?" Megatron interrupted, leaning in to kiss the crook of his neck. "You have been mine since the moment you met me. Did it never occur to you that such a thing isn't necessarily bad?"

"Not bad?" Starscream continued to struggle against the hands holding him, but in his mind, he saw the image of Megatron protecting him on the battlefield. Protecting him like his trine would, mimicking their almost tribal possessiveness of each other, their call to brotherhood. Was it possible that . . .?

_"You are already mine."_

A nameless emotion, the piece of some long-lost puzzle, clicked into place within Starscream's spark, and his memory banks showed him the odd, pleased smile Megatron had given him the entire evening after he had graduated from the War Academy. Over the high-grade energon and raucous laughter of his sudden, new "family," Starscream had felt a silent gaze watching him. The same gaze that had followed him during his initial placement tests, the gaze that had given him permission to speak to his leader when the rest of the recruits wouldn't even look Megatron in the face. All this time, had Megatron actually . . .?

Starscream felt some of his fear ease, and he suspected his facial expression must have betrayed him, because when Megatron kissed him again, he seemed to pour all his passion into him. Overcome, Starscream sagged against the door, but only for a klik. Then he was meeting the kiss with equal passion, moaning as Megatron began exploring his mouth. Starscream thrashed against him again, but this time for a very different reason: he wanted to wrap his arms around Megatron. As though sensing the change, he released his wrists.

With desperate desire, Starscream wrapped one arm around his shoulders and the other around his neck, pushing into the kiss. In response, Megatron enveloped his waist with one arm and pulled him closer. Then he lifted one hand and caressed the edge of Starscream's wing, pulling a gasp from him. Apparently pleased with this reaction, he continued the caress, running his palm in slow circles across the entire length of the wing - the bonding ritual.

_"You are already mine."_

Realizing his leader understood the ritual, Starscream rested his head on Megatron's shoulder as he moaned and arched into the touch. Had he known Megatron was capable of such things, he wouldn't have tried to run away, but it had seemed impossible, even unthinkable. Now, though, a smooth hand stroked his wing tip and traced his wing's edge, affirming the action Megatron had already taken on the battlefield. "Truce," Starscream finally whispered, agreeing to the terms.

With a soft growl of pleasure, Megatron ran his arms under Starscream's aft and picked him up, forcing him to wrap his legs around his waist to keep his balance. He carried Starscream to his berth and laid him on his back, settling between his legs. "Yes," he said, running one hand over the dome of his cockpit. "This is as it should be."

Starscream's answer was nothing more than a moan as he arched into the touch again. His coolant system whirled into high gear, trying to keep his circuits from overheating as Megatron's hands traced his cockpit and his lips traveled across his wing's edge, sucking on the sensitive metal. Starscream shuddered, but determined to return the teasing, he ran his hands around Megatron's neck, caressing just below his helm and then rubbing down his back. Smiling to himself, Starscream found the seam of Megatron's shoulder joints and dipped in his fingers, stimulating the wiring there.

Megatron moaned against Starscream's wing, the sound deep and throaty, and ran his hands under his wings, finding the corresponding joints. Starscream shouted in pleasure as he fingered the sensitive wiring, and he arched his back, pressing their bodies together.

"More," Starscream gasped, catching Megatron's mouth with his.

With a faint moan, Megatron ran his hand down the length of Starscream's body, stopping just below the cockpit, where his interface chamber was. With one finger, he circled the panel, lightly tracing it, causing Starscream to whimper and press his hips against his hand. Finally, the chamber triggered open, revealing the coiled wire and port there.

"M-Megatron," Starscream whispered, but he didn't get the chance to speak further. He yelled out as Megatron teased the chamber with his finger, stroking the coiled wire and rubbing the port.

"Here is the Seeker I remember meeting," Megatron whispered into his audio receptor. "The one whose wings reflected streaks of starlight."

Shocked by the compliment, Starscream didn't react to the sound of Megatron's interface panel sliding open. He stared at the mech he'd hated for millennia. "You mean that from the beginning you thought-"

Megatron simply smiled and plugged himself into Starscream's port, sending a blast of raw electricity through his circuits. Unprepared for the rush of heat, Starscream screamed in pleasure. Pulling him back into his arms, Megatron slid his hands under his wings and shoulders, holding him tightly and nipping a cable in his neck.

A second burst of energy raced through Starscream, causing him to thrust his hips upward, and he cried out as warnings of imminent overload flashed through his processor. Under the current of desire, however, he sensed Megatron's presence: his strength, his determination, his arousal, and another emotion - one as powerful as his passion but not understood by Megatron himself.

Starscream understood it, though, and in that instant he knew his trine had been right. Euphoric, he crushed Megatron to him, kissing him relentlessly. Megatron responded by sending a tidal wave of energy through him, flashing heat through his entire system and causing him to arch and moan.

Megatron stilled momentarily and ran his hand over Starscream's cockpit. "Do you admit you're mine?"

The words simultaneously rang through their connection, but Starscream was too delirious to respond. He moaned as Megatron unlatched his cockpit and removed the dome, allowing cool air to rush across his overheated systems.

Megatron caressed the seam in the cockpit. "Do you admit you're mine?" he repeated. "If you want this from me, I will brook no betrayals. You will give yourself to me."

Starscream shivered at the intimate touch, and after a moment, his processor caught up with the words. "You want to . . .?" His surprise was so extreme he couldn't finish the sentence. He'd never imagined Megatron would go this far.

"I will seal your fate to mine," Megatron said, his burning gaze steady. "You will be unable to betray me ever again. Those are the terms of my truce."

"Only if you honor the oath of the Seekers' bonding ritual," Starscream replied, and connected to Megatron as he was, he listened closely to the data stream passing between them, knowing he could read his mind.

_I will not abuse what is tied to my own fate,_ Megatron thought, although his verbal reply was a simple "I will." However, more than those words was the undercurrent buried deep within his processor, running like static below the surface: _You_ are _special._

Both overwhelmed and reassured, Starscream relaxed against the berth. "I'm yours," he whispered, willing now - and only now - to extend some genuine trust to him.

The answering wave of passion nearly overloaded him. Megatron coaxed Starscream's spark casing open, and Starscream reached up to open his lover's as well. A pulsing red sphere of energy met his gaze, and he smiled at Megatron as he lowered himself onto him.

"Megatron . . ."

"Mine," he hissed, kissing him furiously.

The sparks moved as though they possessed a will of their own and lifted from their casings, merging into one another. Through the interfacing cable and the sparks crashed wave upon wave of electricity, causing them to clutch each other and moan. Their very essences pulsed together, their senses of self washing away as their systems throbbed. And then, with a scream of pleasure, Starscream overloaded and crashed, jerking Megatron's with him.

As one they collapsed, both knocked unconscious.

oOoOo

Megatron watched the peaceful face of his Seeker as he recharged. Absently, he stroked Starscream's cockpit, having closed his chest and returned the dome to its rightful place. Even with his bonded in recharge, Megatron could feel a faint current passing between them, like a reassurance their sparks still hummed with life. He knew that the bond would strengthen over time, causing the risk that if one died, the other would be killed from the backlash.

Although he believed he was strong enough to survive should Starscream die, Megatron still had not meant to go so far. In fact, spark-bonding hadn't been on his mind. However, once his system had synched with Starscream's and he'd seen and felt all his turbulent emotions and thoughts, he had finally understood what Starscream wanted from him. What was more, he had seen a way to have what _he_ wanted: Starscream loyal and by his side, forever stabilized as the efficient, cruel predator. With that thought had come a strange emotion he didn't understand, something unrelated to conquest or domination. But even without understanding it, he'd acted on it.

He did not regret the decision.

"Even in this, you will make me live up to the Decepticon name," Megatron said to the recharging form. Although he had told Starscream they couldn't fulfill each other's needs and desires, as his processor slowly analyzed and stored all the information that had passed between them, he realized his words might not be true. At the time, he had simply wanted to take what he had always secretly wanted without looking weak. Now, though . . .

Well, Megatron admitted to himself, he never let anyone take from him what he considered his, and he always protected his assets. Adding a sentient being into that equation had staggering implications, but he was unwilling to back down from the challenge.

Starscream stirred faintly, and Megatron stopped caressing his cockpit. After a moment's hesitation, however, he saw no logical reason to hide his actions, so he resumed, enjoying the feel of the smooth glass beneath his hand.

With a flash of brightening optics, Starscream awakened. He seemed dazed momentarily, then looked at Megatron and smiled. "Sorry. I don't normally stay in recharge so long after -"

Megatron put one finger on his lips, silencing him. An odd, jealous surge raced through his systems. "Don't tell me. You are mine now, and that is all I wish to hear about."

Starscream licked his finger, causing him to jerk slightly from both the shock and the pleasant sensation. "Slagger!" He laughed. "You and your compulsive need to conquer! I said I'm not a plaything to be possessed, you know."

Growling, Megatron started to rebuke him, but at the teasing wave rippling through their bond, he lost his anger. "I see you're going to remain a terrible pain in the aft."

"It's my job to keep you on track," Starscream replied, grinning. "Someone has to keep your massive ego in check."

Megatron rested his hand on Starscream's chest, over where his spark was housed. He didn't realize at first that he was leaning closer to his lips. "Do you think so, my little fool? Well, regardless, you're still mine."

"You don't know it yet, but you're mine as well," Starscream replied, amusement flowing through their bond.

Megatron started to argue, but their lips met. A mere astrosecond, and he was lost in the kiss.

Perhaps some inconveniences were worth their pain, Megatron mused as warmth flooded his circuits.

oOoOo

Skywarp raced into the mess hall, scanned the room, and located his target. "Hey, Soundwave!"

The navy and white mech jumped faintly, like a cornered criminal. His cassettes surrounded him at their table, each with his morning energon ration, and they looked up as the Seeker raced across the room.

"You know something, don't you?" Skywarp asked, flopping into a free chair. "I know you have to know, so don't claim you don't!"

Thundercracker had followed his bondmate into the room and sighed as he worked his way to the table in question. "Don't push it," he said.

"Don't be silly!" Skywarp propped his elbows on the table and leaned toward Soundwave in a conspiratorial manner. "Spill it. Our industrious leaders are nowhere to be found. The time has come to pay up, right?"

Thundercracker sighed again and sat by his bondmate. "'Warp, the whole room's staring."

Skywarp grinned at the crowd of curious first-shift mechs: Coneheads, Constructicons, and Cassettes alike stared at him, glee evident in their optics. He turned his grin upon Soundwave. "Spill it. Even us non-telepaths could see it coming."

"Request: impractical. Energon: scarce," the communications officer intoned.

Skywarp was not discouraged. "Come on! Even if we can't make good on all our bets, you know you'll come out ahead. If they finally got over themselves and did the deed, your bet was closest. And after it took us so long to get Shockwave to even place a bet, don't you at least want to see the 'look' on his 'face' when he finds out you beat him by a whole vorn?"

Rumble and Frenzy began cackling and poked their boss in the arm.

"Go ahead!" Rumble nearly dropped his energon in his excitement. "Tell 'em, boss!"

Frenzy was laughing too hard to form a coherent sentence. "Shockwave - shocked - priceless!"

A faint sound emanated from the normally stoic mech. "Megatron learns: we all die."

Skywarp waved one hand through the air. "No one's gonna tell. We don't want to hear Starscream's tantrum any more than we want to get our heads blasted off by Megatron's slaggin' fusion cannon."

Soundwave paused, then replied. "Time: nine joors and sixteen kliks ago."

"Yes!" Skywarp jumped to his feet so quickly his chair toppled over. "I'm second only to Soundwave! Pay up you slaggers!"

A chorus of groans passed through the room.

"I don't think I can calculate my losses with my own processor," Thundercracker said, smacking his face into his hands.

"Is that fair?" Hook asked. "Some of us were in stasis lock for four million years and others weren't. Since they were offline for so long, doesn't that affect the bet?"

"I'm gonna party, party, party!" Ramjet sang, his wings twitching with joy.

Dirge slammed his head into his table. "I'm doomed."

"Pay up!" Skywarp yelled again over the ruckus.

Rumble and Frenzy were bouncing at their creator's side. "You are gonna share your winnings with us, right?" Rumble asked.

Skywarp turned to face the impassive mech again. "Yeah, Soundwave. It's almost not fair since you're a telepath."

"Opinion: fed up with waiting. Assessment: it was about time," Soundwave replied.

"I second that!" Skywarp said, and the entire mess hall erupted into shouts of laughter.

* * *

_Postscript: The bet at the end was inspired by Crimson Starlight's "Hiding the Obvious."_

_Thank you for all the reviews and faves! You guys have been totally awesome, so much love! And to Lady Prime and Cleargold: thanks for the beta. I appreciate your help._

_Yes, this story really needs a sequel since there are still many, many things to work out in Megs and Screamer's complex relationship. I plan to write one, but I have some other story ideas to move through first. Just hang in there with me, okay?_


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